


The Water Can't Drown Me

by camwolfe



Series: The Water Can't Drown Me [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Child Abuse, Depression, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phobias, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Traumatic Brain Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2404013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes needs to thank the guy who saved his little sister's life, but it's harder than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My insomnia keeps me up most nights until 5am, and this is the result of one such night. This was also another fic that I said would be no more than 1000 words and yet here we are. Again. 
> 
> The title is from "The Water", by Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling.

Bucky hadn’t even remembered to bring towels.

He sighed as he struggled down the stairs that led to the beach. He was trying to carry the bag filled with snacks, as well as three folding chairs.

“Bucky, hurry up!” Grace called from the bottom of the stairs. She was bouncing on her toes impatiently, her dark curls falling over her face.

“I’m trying!” Bucky shouted back. He nearly tripped as Ethan ran past him with Rebecca close on his heels. Swearing under his breath, Bucky finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. The second he caught up with her, Grace took off again. Bucky sighed again and trudged after her, his feet sinking into the sand.

“You’re so slow,” Grace complained when he finally made it. She’d picked a nice spot, actually. Not too close to the water, but not too far away. There were a few people scattered along the beach, but it wasn’t nearly as crowded as it normally was. This late in the year, very few people were brave enough to come and try and swim in the cold water. There was a chill in the air this morning, too. Bucky could even see a guy sitting on the edge of a dock who was wearing a sweater.

“Yeah, well, those of us who are older than seven have already used up all of our energy,” Bucky told her as he dropped the bag and chairs on the sand. Ethan and Rebecca were already down by the water. Rebecca was trying to push Ethan in, and he was struggling valiantly against her.

Grace pouted. “I would have carried a chair if I could. I tried.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky said as he unfolded the chairs. “They’re still a little too heavy for you.”

“Bucky!” Ethan shrieked from where he was stumbling back into the water. “Rebecca’s trying to push me in!”

“That’s what we came here for!” Bucky shouted back. Rebecca laughed and shoved Ethan harder.

Ethan ducked around her and ran back up to where Grace was already starting work on a sandcastle. “I don’t want to go swimming though. I hate swimming.”

“You don’t have to,” Bucky told him patiently. “Help Grace with her sandcastle, then.”

“Can you carry the bucket?” Grace asked him, holding the bucket up and smiling winningly. Ethan scowled, but he grabbed the bucket from her and ran down to the water again to fill it up with mud. Rebecca was still standing by the water, letting the waves rush up around her feet.

“Anybody need sunscreen?” Bucky called, waving the bottle in his hand.

“No,” all three of them said at once. Bucky shrugged and dropped it back into the bag. It was a cloudy day, anyway.

“I like it when you’re not at university,” Grace said as she pushed the sand together. “Mom never lets us not wear sunscreen.”

Bucky was kicking his shoes off. “I like it too. Hanging out with you is more fun than sitting in some dumb class.”

Grace beamed up at him. “Can we come here every day, now that you’re back?”

“Nah, it’ll be too cold soon. Even you won’t want to go swimming then.”

Grace shook her head. “I’ll never not want to go swimming. I love swimming.”

Ethan ran back up from the beach and dumped the muddy water all over her sandcastle. Grace wailed.

“What?” Ethan asked innocently. “You wanted mud.”

“To build it with!” Grace told him indignantly. “Not like that!”

Ethan shrugged.

Bucky tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it back into the bag, making sure that his phone was safe and secure inside the pocket. “Ethan, I guess if you’re gonna mess with Grace’s sandcastle then you’re just going to have to go swimming after all.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “No! You said I didn’t have to!”

Bucky grinned. “I changed my mind.”

Ethan shrieked and took off. He was laughing too hard, though, and his ten-year-old legs had nothing on Bucky. Bucky caught him easily and threw him over his shoulder. He walked down the water with Ethan struggling to get free. Grace ran behind them, clapping her hands.

Rebecca laughed hysterically as Bucky waded into the water. “Throw him in! Throw him in, Bucky!”

“No!” Ethan wailed again. “Rebecca, help me!”

Rebecca apparently decided to do her duty as Ethan’s twin sister, and she ran after Bucky and grabbed Ethan’s hand. It soon turned into a wrestling match.

Ethan and Rebecca’s combined strength won out, and soon all three of them were safely back on the beach, albeit now a bit waterlogged. Ethan and Rebecca were breathless from laughter, but Grace had apparently gotten bored of not being involved.

“Can we go swimming now, Bucky?” she asked. Bucky pushed his damp hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah. Go leave your shoes up with the chairs, though.”

Grace ran back to the chairs to take her shoes off, and Bucky turned to survey the water. It wasn’t a windy day, and the water was pretty much as calm as it could get. He knew where all the riptides were on this beach, and he’d made sure to pick a spot that would be safe. There was even a dock only a few metres away if they needed to get out of the water quickly.

“Are you guys coming in?” Bucky asked, turning back to Ethan and Rebecca.

“No,” both of them said at the same time. Neither of them were even wearing their swimsuits, and they seemed preoccupied by the patterns they were now drawing in the sand.

Bucky shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Grace charged past them and ran straight into the water. She fell the minute the water got higher than her knees, and her shriek echoed all the way down the beach.

“It’s cold!” she shouted as she paddled deeper into the water. “It’s really cold!”

“Grace, shh!” Bucky said hurriedly as he waded in after her. “We’re gonna annoy everyone on the beach.”

“Nah,” Grace said happily. “They aren’t mad.” She stuck her arm out of the water and waved at the guy sitting on the dock. “Hi!”

The guy looked up from what looked like a sketchbook. Bucky winced, but the guy smiled suddenly and waved back. Bucky tried not to notice the way the smile lit up the guy’s already attractive face.

“See? He’s not mad,” Grace said. She swam a little deeper.

Bucky’s admiration of the guy’s face and broad shoulders disappeared as Grace swam out of his reach. “Hey! Grace, stay close to me. You know the rules.”

Grace sighed and let Bucky swim closer to her. “I know, I know. Don’t go out of your reach, don’t out past the dock.”

“Good,” Bucky told her as he let himself fall back into the water. The water was definitely already cold, and it sucked the air out of his lungs a little. It was refreshing, though, and he let his head tip back so his hair dragged along the water.

A splash of water hit his face and he jumped upright. “Hey!”

Grace giggled and tried to paddle away. “You were falling asleep.”

“Was not,” Bucky countered. He dropped back into the water and kicked his feet at her, splashing her with a wave of water.

Grace’s helpless giggles prevented her from splashing him back. The two of them swam in circles for a while, enjoying the peacefulness of the water. Grace occasionally clung to Bucky’s shoulder for a while so she could take a break from swimming, and Bucky kept a close eye on Ethan and Rebecca. They were still safely on the beach.

Grace let go of Bucky’s shoulder and paddled a little deeper. She was looking down in the water below, although she was careful not to put her face in the water. “Bucky, come look at this! Look at this rock!”

“Okay,” Bucky said, but movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Ethan and Rebecca had been using sticks to write their names in the sand, but Ethan was now hitting Rebecca with his. “Hey! Ethan! Stop hitting her with that!”

Ethan turned around and squinted out at the water. “She called me stupid!”

“I don’t care! Stop hitting her with the stick!” Bucky shouted back. Rebecca laughed and Ethan scowled at her, but he dropped the stick.

Bucky turned back around. “Okay, Grace, where’s-“

He froze. The surface of the water was blank, and Grace was nowhere to be seen.

Bucky’s arms and legs immediately went cold and his heart started to pound. She was probably just under the water for a second. She’d probably just dipped under a wave.

He waited. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

“Grace?” he said, his voice strained. “Grace?”

She didn’t reappear. The water was dark.

“Grace!” Bucky shouted again, throwing himself further into the water. He was frantically scanning as much of the water as he could see, but the water was so dark that he could barely see his own legs through it.

Bucky’s shouting appeared to be gaining attention, because the guy on the dock looked up. Bucky wasn’t paying any attention to him, though, as he frantically plowed through the water. Bucky sucked in as deep of a breath as he could and dove under the water. He forced his eyes open, and the salt stung painfully. He ignored it and swam deeper into the water. He hadn’t realized how steeply the ground dropped off around here, and he frantically kicked out as he swam. His heart was pounding so loudly now that he couldn’t hear a thing, not that it mattered when he was that deep in the water.

His lungs were squeezing painfully, and all of his instincts told him to get air. Bucky kicked off the ground and swam back to the surface, keeping his eyes open the whole way. It wasn’t helping at all. The water was so dark that he could barely see his hand in front of his face, and it didn’t help that the waves had started to pick up a little.

Bucky gasped for air as his head broke the surface. He scanned the top of the water again, but there was still no sign of Grace. The next breath he took was half broken by a sob, but he gritted his teeth and dove back under the water again. He had even less air this time, and he felt a surge of dizziness run through his head. He ignored it and kept searching, but he couldn’t see anything. Bucky had to kick for the surface again only a minute later.

The surface had been farther than he thought, and his lungs felt like they were going to burst by the time he got to the top. A wave splashed him just as his head broke the surface, and his first gasp of air was mostly water. Bucky choked as the water entered his lungs, and he coughed frantically as he struggled to stay above the surface. His arms and legs felt slow and sluggish, and his head was spinning.

Bucky heard a splash right next to him, and he turned to see the blond guy from the dock appear next to him. The guy didn’t even look at him before he dove under the water and disappeared.

Bucky scanned the water again, but there was still no sign. He had no idea how long it had been. Too long.

A crowd had gathered on the beach, and people were starting to wade into the water. He distantly heard Rebecca screaming Grace’s name, but all that sound disappeared as he dove back under.

He could only stay under for a few moments this time. Pain was ripping through his chest, and the urge to cough the water out of his lungs was too strong. He kicked for the surface, but his lungs moved before he broke the surface. His gasp for air pulled more water into his lungs, and Bucky choked as another wave hit his face. There was no sign of either Grace or the blond guy, but more people had entered the water and were swimming towards him. Bucky’s coughs were interrupted by the panicked sobs that kept ripping through his body.

A moment later, the surface of the water next to him broke and the blond guy reappeared. His gasp for air sounded almost as desperate as Bucky’s, but that wasn’t what got Bucky’s attention. The guy’s right arm was wrapped around Grace’s waist, and he was holding her head clear of the water. She lolled back on his shoulder as he leaned onto his back, her face grey and blank.

Bucky nearly sank back under the water again. The relief that raced through his body did nothing to eradicate the darkness that was filling up Bucky’s vision, and he felt his head start to slip beneath the water again.

Something grabbed onto Bucky’s arm and yanked him back the surface. Bucky fought it dizzily as his head broke the water again.

The guy was pulling Bucky with one arm, while still keeping Grace above the water with the other. “Stop,” he hissed at Bucky. “Trying… to help…”

Bucky belatedly realized that he’d been trying to push the guy’s arm off of him. He forced himself to relax slightly. The guy was keeping Bucky’s face above water, and Bucky gasped for air frantically. After a few breaths, he twisted out of the guy’s arms.

“M’ fine,” he gasped out. “Go.”

The guy let go of him immediately and took off through the water. He reached the beach well before Bucky did. Bucky’s vision started to waver again as he got nearer to the beach, but suddenly there were hands on him and people were hauling him up onto the sand.

Bucky’s legs gave out as soon as he was out of the water, and he fell onto his knees. He crawled forward to where the small crowd had gathered.

 Grace was lying on her back on the sand. The blond guy was kneeling above her.

Grace’s face was grey, and her eyes were closed. Her lips and eyes were tinged with blue, and even Bucky could clearly see that her chest wasn’t moving.

The blond guy was doing CPR by the time Bucky crawled up next to them. Bucky automatically tried to reach for Grace, but the people gathered around them pulled him back. Bucky slumped onto the sand instead, staring uselessly at her blank face.

“I called the ambulance,” a woman said from behind Bucky. “They said it’ll take them twenty minutes to get here.”

Bucky reached out and wrapped Grace’s hand in his. She was so cold, so fucking cold.

A moment later, there was a sudden gasping noise and Grace’s chest expanded. The blond guy immediately sat back and grabbed Grace’s shoulders, rolling her onto her side. Bucky numbly moved out of the way, still gripping her hand.

Grace started to cough, water trickling out of her mouth with each one. Bucky wanted to cry with relief, but his body felt numb and frozen.

“Okay,” the blond guy said. “Does anyone have any blankets or towels?”

There was a murmur in the crowd. “No,” someone finally said.

The guy sighed. “Okay, everyone who isn’t being helpful, please back up and give her some space. Who here can run the fastest?”

“I can,” a small voice said from behind Bucky. Ethan stepped forward, his eyes huge. Rebecca was right behind him, hugging her sweater tight around her body. Bucky hadn’t even stopped to check if they were okay.

“Great,” the blond guy said, giving them a quick smile. He was holding Grace’s small body so she was still on her side, and he was rubbing his hands over her arms. “What’s your name?”

“Ethan,” Ethan said steadily.

“Okay, Ethan. My name is Steve. You see that house up there? The one on the rocks? That’s my house, and there’s a whole bunch of blankets and towels in that cabinet on the porch. Can you run up there and grab them for me?”

“Yes,” Ethan said. He grabbed Rebecca’s hand and the two of them took off towards the house a few metres away.

Bucky was still staring at Grace’s face. A little colour had started to come back into her skin, but her eyes were still closed. She was coughing more violently now, but her face was still blank.

“She’s not waking up,” Bucky said. His voice sounded distant and hoarse, even to him.

“She’s breathing,” Steve said calmly. “That’s the important thing for now.”

“Okay,” Bucky said blankly. He didn’t know what else to do, so he just kept holding her hand.

Ethan and Rebecca reappeared, their arms filled with blankets. Both of them were white as a sheet, but their jaws were set in the stubborn way that Bucky knew so well.

“Thank you,” Steve said. He took one arm off of Grace’s shoulders to take the blankets out of Rebecca’s arms. He started wrapping them around Grace, making sure not to roll her off of her side. “Can you give the rest to your brother?”

Ethan stepped around them and walked over to Bucky. “Here, Bucky,” he said, and draped the biggest of the blankets over Bucky’s bare shoulders. Bucky looked up at him.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, trying to shrug the blanket off.

“You’re in shock and probably hypothermic,” Steve said calmly. “Take the blanket.”

Bucky did.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Suddenly the paramedics were there, and they were loading Grace onto a stretcher and strapping an oxygen mask onto her face. Bucky stumbled to his feet and followed them, clutching the blanket around his shoulders.

The stairs were long and Bucky fell twice trying to get up them. Both times Steve, who was following behind them, hauled him upright again. Ethan and Rebecca were right behind them. Rebecca had even thought to grab the beach bag that had Bucky’s phone and wallet in it.

The ambulance was waiting at the top of the stairs, and they immediately loaded the stretcher into it.

“Anybody coming?” the paramedic asked sharply as he climbed in after the stretcher.

“Me,” Bucky said quickly, hurrying after them. Ethan and Rebecca followed, and the paramedic held up his hand.

“We can only take one,” he said. Bucky stared at the twins, his eyes frantic. He couldn’t leave them behind, but he couldn’t let Grace go to the hospital alone, either.

“I’ll take them,” Steve said quickly. “My car’s right here. County General?”

“Yep,” the paramedic confirmed. “You in or out?”

Bucky quickly climbed inside after him, and the paramedic pulled the doors shut. It started moving before Bucky even thought about the fact that he’d just entrusted his siblings’ lives to a total stranger.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to the hospital was quick, but it felt painfully slow to Bucky. The paramedic worked on Grace the whole way, and all Bucky could do was watch and clutch at her hand. She was still breathing and coughing occasionally, and he was pretty sure the paramedic said her vitals were good. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, though, and her skin had turned a ghastly white.

They rushed her out of the ambulance as soon as it pulled up to the hospital. Bucky trailed behind, still clutching at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Someone eventually sheparded him into a waiting room, and he collapsed into one of the vinyl chairs. Thankfully the room was nearly empty, and Bucky stared blankly at the wall opposite to him.

A nurse came up to him a minute later.

“You’re the girl’s father?” she asked brusquely.

Bucky forced his eyes to focus on her. “No, no, I’m her brother.”

The nurse jotted something down on her clipboard.  “Her name?”

“Grace Barnes.”

“Age?”

“Seven.”

“Does she have any prior medical conditions?”

“No.”

The nurse rattled off the list of questions. Bucky hazily gave her his parents’ phone number and address, and then slumped back in the chair with relief when she was done.

The nurse had just walked away when the doors flew open again. Steve walked in with Ethan and Rebecca right beside him.

Rebecca ran up to Bucky the minute she saw him, but she skidded to a halt in front of his chair. She looked back at Ethan.

“Hey,” Bucky said hoarsely as he tried to sit up. He hadn’t noticed, but his body had started to shake. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca said quickly. She was biting down on her lip, which meant that she was trying not to cry. “Is Grace?”

Bucky stared at the floor. “They took her back there somewhere.”

The tears spilled over in Rebecca’s eyes, and she started to cry. Ethan had his arms crossed tightly across his chest, and he stared at her worriedly.

Bucky reached out and pulled her into his arms. She curled up against his shoulder, and he wrapped his blanket around her. Ethan sat down on the chair next to Bucky, pushing himself against his shoulder.

“Hey,” Steve said. He knelt down next to Bucky’s chair so that he was at Bucky’s eye level. “You’re shaking pretty badly. They should have given you something for the shock.” He glanced at the nurses behind the desk, frowning.

“I think they tried,” Bucky mumbled. “I wanted to come here instead.”

Steve sighed, and got to his feet again. He walked away somewhere, but Bucky wasn’t sure where he went.

Bucky stared at the floor again, holding Rebecca as tightly as he could.

Steve reappeared a few minutes later, holding a tray of drinks.

“All right,” he said as he knelt down in front of them again. “I’ve got two hot chocolates and a coffee. Who wants which?”

“Hot chocolate,” Ethan and Rebeccca said at the same time. Both of them sat up and reached out, and Steve handed them two of the drinks.

“That makes you the coffee,” Steve said to Bucky. Bucky reached out to take it, but his hands were shaking so badly that some of it spilled over the sides.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbled as he sipped at it slowly. The warm liquid felt amazing against his painful throat.

“No problem,” Steve said. “I’ll be right back. Again.”

Steve disappeared again, but he was back by the time that Bucky was almost done his coffee. He was holding a pile of clothes.

“Hey,” Steve said easily. “So it turns out that the gift shop here sells entire outfits. It might not be the best looking, but it’ll be warmer.”

Bucky belatedly realized that he was still wearing his damp swimsuit and the blanket. He didn’t even have shoes on.

Steve pointed down the hallway. “There’s a washroom down that way if you want to go get changed.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said again as he shakily helped Rebecca off his lap. He took the clothes from Steve and stumbled numbly down the hall.

He didn’t realize how badly he was shaking until he stared trying to get his swimsuit off. His hands were clumsy, and he finally had to turn the tap on and run his hands under the hot water to get some feeling back.

Sure enough, the pile of clothes Steve had given him were all from the hospital gift shop. It even had socks and slippers. The sweatpants and hoodie were a little big on Bucky, but they were so much warmer than his swimsuit.

Bucky left his swimsuit in the garbage can. He didn’t think he’d want it back.

Bucky wrapped his blanket around his shoulders again as he shuffled back down the hallway. Steve had now somehow produced food from somewhere, and Rebecca and Ethan were digging into the box of French fries.

“I found the cafeteria,” Steve said as Bucky sat down next to Rebecca again. “There’s a sandwich if you want it.”

“No thank you,” Bucky said blankly. His mind felt slow and sluggish, even if his body was shaking less violently.

“You should eat something,” Steve said softly.

Bucky leaned forward and propped his arms on his knees, letting his head fall into his hands. “Not hungry.”

Steve didn’t say anything else about it. Bucky wasn’t sure how much time passed after that, but eventually his arms and legs stopped shaking as much.

Bucky was still sitting with his head in his hands when the waiting room doors burst open again. Bucky looked up as his parents ran into the room.

Ethan and Rebecca immediately jumped up and ran to meet them. Bucky’s mother wrapped her arms around both of them. Her face was white as a sheet, and her eyes were red.

Bucky pushed himself to his feet, still clutching the blanket tight around his shoulders. His father pushed right past Ethan and Rebecca and walked up to him.

“Dad – “ Bucky tried to say.

“What the hell, Bucky?” his father shouted. “All you had to do was keep her safe for a few hours, that’s all, and you couldn’t even do that? What the fuck is wrong with you? How does something like this even happen?“

Bucky stared at the floor in front of his feet. He’d been asking himself the same questions over and over, and had yet to find answers to them.

“George,” Bucky’s mother said reproachfully. Rebecca was crying again.

Bucky’s father looked at her, and then turned around. He walked to the other side of the room, running his hands through his hair. Bucky kept staring miserably at the floor.

Thankfully, the doors opened again a moment later and the doctor walked back in.

“The family of Grace Barnes?” he asked, looking down at his clipboard.

“That’s us,” Bucky’s mother said hastily. “I’m her mother.”

“Great,” the doctor said, looking up from his clipboard. “I’ve got good news for you. She’s breathing on her own now, and she woke up about twenty minutes ago. Her vitals are strong and steady, and we don’t think we’re looking at any brain damage.”

“Oh, thank god,” Winifred Barnes said breathlessly. She pulled Ethan and Rebecca closer to her. George Barnes sucked in a breath that sounded like a sob.

“She’s asking for you, and I can take you to see her now,” the doctor continued. “We’re going to need to keep her here for a while for observation, and to monitor for any potential complications.”

“Okay,” Winifred said. “Thank you, thank you so much.” George put a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into him.

“All right, I’ve got some more paperwork for you to fill out, but if you’ll follow me?” the doctor said as he led the way down another hallway. Bucky shuffled after his family, his too-big slippers scraping on the ground.

George and Winifred disappeared into one of the rooms, dragging the twins with them. Bucky was nearly to the door when he heard Grace’s familiar giggle come from inside the room. Bucky stopped and leaned against the wall, pulling his blanket as tight around him as it could go.

He could hear his family’s voices, all of them laced with relief. Bucky tried to take a step forward into the room, he really did, but his lungs felt like they were clenching against and his chest started to hurt.

Bucky slid down the wall so that he was sitting on the floor. He stared blankly at the wall opposite to him, pulling his blanket as tight as it could go.

“I’m sorry,” he said numbly to no one. He was vaguely aware of people walking past him, of machines making noise in other rooms. He could hear Ethan’s voice rising up the others, eagerly trying to say something. Bucky just felt cold.

He must have been sitting there for at least an hour or so by the time his uncle knelt down in front of him. Bucky had no idea when he’d shown up, but here he was. Bucky’s aunt was standing behind him, with one arm around Ethan and the other around Rebecca.

“Hey, Bucky,” his uncle said calmly. “We’re going to take the three of you home, okay? Your mom and dad are going to stay here with Grace for the night.”

Bucky stared at him. His uncle looked up at his aunt worriedly.

“Do you want to come with us?” his uncle tried again.

Bucky didn’t particularly want to go with them, but he didn’t want to stay here in the hall either. Bucky slowly pushed himself to his feet, still keeping his blanket around his shoulders.

His aunt led the way out of the hospital. Bucky was vaguely aware that his uncle had his arm around his shoulders and was pushing him along. Things were moving as kind of a blur, and Bucky somehow found himself sitting in the passenger’s seat of an SUV. Someone had put another blanket on him, and he wrapped himself up in it gratefully.

He didn’t sleep on the drive home, but his mind seemed to drift in and out anyway. He was aware of his aunt and uncle talking in quiet voices, but the sound of the engine was peaceful. It was dark outside by now, and Bucky let his eyes fall closed.

The car pulled up to Bucky’s house, and someone opened the door for Bucky. He got out of the car and followed his family as they filed in through the door.

His uncle took Rebecca and Ethan into the kitchen when they came in, probably to make them some dinner. His aunt stood in the hallway with him as she locked the door.

“Bucky, are you –“ she started. Bucky had started to shake again, and he kicked his slippers off as fast as he could. He bolted up the stairs, ignoring her calling after him.

Bucky ran into his room and slammed the door behind him. His room had a solid lock on it, and he locked it as quickly as he could.

His bedroom was painfully silent after the noise of the hospital and the chaos on the beach. Bucky finally dropped the blanket on the floor and stumbled into the washroom attached to his bedroom. He turned on the shower as high as it could go and pulled off his clothes.

He gasped as he stepped under the water. It scalded his skin, but the chill in his bones started to fade a little. The numbness in his head and in his body started to disappear quickly, and Bucky’s legs began to shake again.

He ended up sitting on the floor of his shower, the burning water turning his skin bright red. The sobs started as gasps for air, but quickly gave way to tears that mixed with the water running down his face.

Bucky sat there until the water turned from hot to lukewarm. He didn’t have the energy to cry anymore, and he lethargically reached up and turned the water off.

Getting out of the shower was harder work than he’d anticipated. His head was spinning from sitting in the hot water for so long, and he had to hold onto the wall to stand up.

Changing into his pajama pants and shirt took the last of his strength, and Bucky had to actually crawl into his bed. He pulled the covers almost all the way over his head, leaving just enough room so that he could breathe.

Bucky felt more exhausted than he’d ever been in his entire life, and he passed out almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm over at cameronwolfe.tumblr.com if you want to come say hi. I love hearing your feedback and comments, and I hope you're all enjoying this so far.


	3. Chapter 3

He was woken up sometime later by his uncle knocking on his door and calling his name, but Bucky ignored him and let himself fall asleep again.

Bucky slept all the way through the night and well into the next day. Not that it really mattered, considering the only time he got out of bed that day was to go sit in the shower again. When the hot water ran out, Bucky crawled back into bed. He grabbed his Ipad from his nightstand and unlocked it as he burrowed back underneath the covers.

Unfortunately, the last thing he’d been reading on it was his town’s newspaper. The page automatically refreshed, and Bucky’s empty stomach twisted when he read the main headline.

**Seven-Year-Old Girl Rushed to Hospital in Critical Condition**

_A seven-year-old child was taken to hospital Thursday afternoon after she was pulled out of the ocean at Sadie Bay. The girl was unconscious and non-responsive initially, but was resuscitated on the beach before being taken to County General Hospital. Her condition has since improved, and she is expected to be released from the hospital on Saturday. This incident has prompted an investigation into the safety of the currents at Sadie Bay…_

Bucky didn’t bother to open the rest of the article. He turned his Ipad off and tossed it back on the nightstand. He was suddenly tired again, and he pulled his blankets back over his head.

He drifted in and out of awareness for the next day. He heard people knock on his door occasionally, but they left after a while when he didn’t reply. He knew he should probably eat at some point, but he just wasn’t hungry.

He woke up at noon two days later by another frantic knock on his door.

“Bucky!” Rebecca called. “Bucky, Grace is here! Everybody’s home!”

Bucky pulled the pillow over his head.

“Buckyyyyyyyyyy,” Rebecca whined. “Come on, Mom says we can order pizza.”

When Bucky still didn’t reply, a thud sounded from the door. It sounded like Rebecca had kicked it.

“Fine, you don’t get any pizza then.”

Bucky was actually getting pretty hungry, but the drawbacks of having to get out of bed far outweighed the benefits of staying snugly wrapped in his blankets.

At 6 that evening, another knock sounded on his door. This one was much more firm.

“Bucky?” his father’s voice called. Bucky burrowed deeper into his blankets, but he nearly sat up in indignation when the lock started to turn.

He hadn’t even known that his parents had a key to his bedroom, but his dad walked confidently into the room and shut the door behind him.

“Hey,” George Barnes said softly. He sat down in the armchair across from Bucky’s bed. Bucky tried not to move, in the hopes that he’d think Bucky was asleep.

“I know you aren’t asleep.”

So much for that.

“Bucky, look,” George said finally. “I’m sorry for… I’m sorry for what I said to you at the hospital. I didn’t mean it, you know that right?”

Frankly, Bucky was pretty sure that he’d meant it.

“I just… I was scared, and I was panicking, and we didn’t know what was going on. We didn’t even know if she was alive or not, at that point. And I… I was angry, and I took it out on you. But we talked to Ethan and Rebecca, and we found out what happened.”

When Bucky didn’t reply, George continued.

“So what I’m trying to say… I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. It wasn’t your fault, what happened. It’s nobody’s fault. Stuff like that just happens sometimes. But it’s over now, and everyone’s fine.”

Bucky really didn’t think that everybody was fine, but okay.

“Anyway, your mother is getting worried. Grace misses you. So do the twins. I get that you’re upset about… about what happened, but you’re gonna have to get out of bed at some point.”

George waited for another few minutes, but Bucky didn’t move or reply. George finally stood up and awkwardly patted Bucky on the shoulder before leaving.

Bucky rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a while before throwing a pillow at the door.

 

Two weeks passed in the same manner. Bucky slept all day, ignoring knocks on the door and the sounded of his phone buzzing. At night, once everyone had gone to sleep, he would get up and shower. Then he’d go down to the kitchen as quietly as he could and grab some leftovers out of the fridge. He’d eat them sitting at the table in silence, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

The obsessive pacing started after a particularly bad nightmare in which Bucky had to helplessly watch Grace choke to death at the kitchen table. He woke up at 7pm, gasping for air and covered in sweat.

That night, the thought that Grace was dead wouldn’t leave his mind. After he had his nightly dinner, he went back upstairs and crept down the dark hall as quietly as he could. Grace’s bedroom door was standing open, and Bucky stopped in the doorway.

Grace’s room was small and cozy, filled mostly with stuffed animals and books strewn everywhere. Grace herself was curled on her bed, her arms wrapped around a teddy bear and her dark hair spilling over her pillow.

Bucky hadn’t seen her since the paramedics took her away from him, and he was surprised at how… normal she looked. Her skin was a healthy colour, and her breathing was even and steady. Bucky waited until he was 100% sure that she was breathing before he backed out of her room.

He meant to go back to his room, but then he irrationally started worrying that either Ethan or Rebecca had stopped breathing. He knew it was irrational, but the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. And so he found himself standing in Ethan’s doorway, waiting until he saw the rise and fall of his chest. He checked on Rebecca, too, before he started to worry that Grace had stopped breathing.

That was how it started. Before long, Bucky was spending all night, every night checking if his siblings were breathing. In between standing in their doorways and listening to their breathing, Bucky would sit on the floor in the hallway in case any of them needed him.

He knew very well that this was creepy and obsessive. He tried several times to just go and spend the night sitting in his room on his computer or watching tv, but the thought that Grace might have died in her sleep wouldn’t leave his head. He’d get more and more anxious as the night wore on, and eventually he’d break down and go out into the hallway.

It was all right during the day, when he could hear Ethan and Rebecca shouting and Grace laughing. It was all right when they were at school, where they were someone else’s responsibility. He could sleep during the day.

Bucky woke up one morning slumped in the hallway outside Grace’s door. His mother was standing over him, her face worried. He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night, and he scrambled to his feet immediately.

“Bucky…” his mother said sadly. Bucky pushed past her and into his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

This continued for three weeks. Bucky ignored the text messages from his friends. Most of the time he didn’t even bother to read them. He didn’t leave his room during the day, and he avoided his family at all costs.

This pattern probably would have continued, had Bucky not tripped on the blanket on his floor one night when he was walking back into his room. The sun was starting to come up, and his family would be awake soon. He’d walked back into his room after spending the night pacing down the hallways and locked the door behind him. His room was still dark, and he promptly tripped over something and fell on his face on the carpet.

Bucky sat up and untangled his feet from the blanket. He pulled it onto his lap, staring at it as memories flashed through his mind again. He actively avoided his memories of that day, and tried to ignore anything to do with it. In doing so, he’d almost forgotten about that guy that had helped them.

As much as Bucky wanted to just crawl back into his bed and go to sleep, he felt like he owed this guy. He’d pay him back for the food and coffee and clothes that he’d bought Bucky, and he’d give him his blanket back.

Bucky waited until his siblings had left for school, and his parents had left for work. Then, he actually got dressed for the first time in almost a month. He neatly folded the blanket and tucked it into his backpack. He grabbed some cash and shoved it in his pocket, and braved the daylight to head out the door.

The guy, who Bucky was pretty sure was named Steve, lived on that same beach at Sadie Bay. Bucky nearly made it, he really did. He walked all the way there, and he actually felt a little better from the fresh morning air and the exercise. The problem started when he turned the corner that lead to Sadie Bay.

Bucky’s heart started to pound, and the sight of the familiar cliffs started to make memories of that day flash in front of Bucky’s eyes. He took a few steps forward, but his stomach was twisting and his arms and legs started to feel weak. His breath was coming in short gasps, and he had to lean on the fence to stay standing.

Eventually he turned around and walked home.

Bucky tried again every morning for the next week. On the eighth day, Bucky actually made it to Steve’s front door.

The house was nice. It was fairly small, and was somehow built into the rocks that lead down to the beach. It was painted a bright white, and large windows looked out over the ocean. Bucky ignored all of this, however, and stared just at the front door. There was no doorbell that he could see, and so he just quickly knocked on the door. The smell and sound of the ocean was making his heart feel like it was struggling to take a single beat, and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up any minute.

He was just about to turn around and run back up to the relative safety of his neighbourhood before he heard footsteps behind the door. It opened with a creaking noise.

Sure enough, the same guy was standing there. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt and jeans, but Bucky would have recognized him anywhere.  Bucky hadn’t been sure if Steve would remember him, but Steve’s face lit up at the sight of Bucky.

“Hey!” Steve said enthusiastically. “How are you?”

It caught Bucky a little off guard.

“Uh, good, thanks,” Bucky said finally. He started to open his backpack, but Steve kept talking.

“How’s your sister?”

Bucky tried not to grit his teeth. “She’s fine. Here, I brought your blanket back.”

“Oh,” Steve said, obviously surprised. He took it back from Bucky, folding it in his hands. “Thanks, I guess. You didn’t have to do this.”

Bucky stared at him as he pulled the cash out of his pocket and held it out to Steve.

“Here. For the food. And the clothes.”

The smile was dropping off of Steve’s face. “No, don’t worry about it. Seriously. I didn’t expect you to pay me back.”

Bucky’s breathing was coming too quickly, he knew, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. It was the sound of that fucking ocean. “Come on, just take it.”

Steve shook his head stubbornly. “I really don’t –“

“Just fucking take it!” Bucky nearly shouted. Steve stared at him with wide eyes, but he took the cash from Bucky.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. He sounded worried.

“Yes,” Bucky said tensely. “Look, I just came here to give all this shit to you, and to thank you. For what you did.”

Steve was still frowning. “It’s… it was no problem. Seriously.”

“Okay, great,” Bucky mumbled. He knew he was being rude, but he was pretty sure he was going to throw up in a minute. Or faint. One of the two. “So, thanks. See you around, I guess.”

He turned and started walking back up the road before Steve could reply. He wasn’t sure if Steve called after him or not, because he couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears.

Bucky somehow made it back to his house in one piece. He spent the next three days in bed, only getting up at night to pace the hallways like always.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky’s routine was interrupted again when the text message alert on his phone started going off so frequently that he finally read his messages. Sure enough, his friend Natasha was insistent that he come to the party she was hosting that night. When he hadn’t responded to her earlier texts, she had resorted to texting him every fifteen seconds until he answered her. Bucky’s initial instinct was to decline and spend the night walking the halls like usual, but the thought of getting out of the house was tempting. His friends would be there, and alcohol would be too. He finally texted her back that he’d be there, and was rewarded by a text message full of smiley emojis.

Bucky didn’t bother to tell anyone he was going out. He got up out of bed at 8pm, showered, and got dressed. He didn’t have any alcohol in his house, so he’d have to beg some off of his friends when he got there.

His family was still awake when he left at 9:30. The thought of actually interacting with them was overwhelming, and so he got out of the house as quickly as possible. He didn’t bother to be quiet as he ran down the stairs, and he was out the front door before anyone could say anything.

He calmed down a little on the walk to Natasha’s house. Her house was the opposite direction from the ocean, which meant that Bucky felt better the further he walked.

It was a little after 10 by the time he got there. He could already hear the music thumping from inside the house when he knocked on the door. Natasha opened it immediately and pulled him inside. She wrapped her arms around him quickly as he protested, before pushing him back and looking him over.

“You look terrible,” she informed him.

Bucky frowned at her. “I do not.” He was wearing his leather jacket and his dark jeans, not to mention that he’d actually washed his hair. He knew he looked hot.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, you look hot, but terrible. You look tired. Bucky, I heard what happened. Are you - ”

Bucky ignored her and headed further into the house. “Your parents out?” he called over his shoulder.

“Until next week. Got the whole place to ourselves until my sister gets back tomorrow.”

“Great,” Bucky said as he took the stairs down to the basement. The basement was already crowded with people, most of whom Bucky knew.

“Heyyyy!” Clint called as he stumbled over to Bucky and Natasha. He was clearly already very drunk. “Bucky, you made it!”

Natasha was still frowning at Bucky, and she was giving him a look that clearly said that this conversation was not over. Bucky ignored her and grabbed Clint’s red cup from him.

“Hey!” Clint protested as Bucky chugged it. “That was mine!”

Bucky handed it back to him and smirked, already feeling a little more like himself. “Go get another one, then. Show me where you got it from in the meantime.”

Clint groaned, but grabbed the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and pulled him over to a table as Natasha disappeared into the crowd. Bucky grabbed a spare cup and made himself his own drink, which was mostly vodka.

He and Clint were winning the beer pong tournament by the time Bucky was on his fourth drink. He’d also had someone’s cup of beer, and even he had to admit that he was pretty drunk. He was enjoying himself, though. His body was warm and light, and the obsessive thoughts that normally dominated his mind were quiet. All he cared about in that moment was getting that ping pong ball into their opponents’ cup of beer.

Bucky and Clint won another two rounds before everyone else pushed them away, claiming they were too good. Bucky stumbled over to where Natasha was sitting on a couch surrounded by a group of people. Natasha grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down onto the couch next to her. He leaned on her shoulder comfortably, blurrily watching people party around them.

He wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation that Natasha was involved in, which is why he caught sight of a too-familiar blond head standing with another group of people.

“No way!” he nearly shouted. He was actually happy to see Steve this time, now that they were safely away from the ocean and that fucking bay. “Steve!”

Bucky crawled out from under Natasha and pushed himself off the couch. He stumbled toward Steve, but accidentally fell sideways into the wall.

“Woah,” Steve said, steading him. Bucky smiled. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said. “Thanks again, though. Sorry I was weird earlier.”

Steve was looking at him with a mix of worry and humour. Bucky couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realized how attractive Steve was before, although admittedly he’d been a little distracted. Steve was even taller than Bucky, and his shoulders were broader. His hair was messy, and his clothes were just a little out of a place at a party like this.

“No problem,” Steve said. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky pointed in what he thought was the direction of Natasha’s couch. “I’m friends with Natasha, that’s my excuse. What about you?”

“Clint,” Steve said by way of explanation. Bucky nodded wisely. Clint always knew everyone.

Bucky leaned against the wall. He was pretty drunk, but he wasn’t oblivious to the way that Steve’s eyes roved over his body. “Why haven’t I seen you around here before then? Everyone knows everyone here.”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. It was cute. “Ah, well… I don’t normally go to parties like this. I only moved here a few years ago, and I’m at college most of the year anyway. Clint dragged me here tonight. He says I need to get out more.”

Bucky smiled at him. “Well, I’m glad he did. I’m glad you’re here. Still need to properly thank you.”

Steve sighed. “You don’t have to! I didn’t… I don’t expect thanks. I was just in the right place at the right time.”

Bucky leaned forward and grabbed Steve’s face with his hands. He pulled Steve’s face toward him.

“Steve,” he said slowly. “You saved my sister’s life, okay? Accept the thanks.”

Steve was staring at him, and Bucky couldn’t read the emotion in his face. Whatever it was, Bucky was distracted by Clint’s shout.

“Barnes! Stop flirting and get the fuck over here!”

Bucky let go of Steve and stumbled over to where Clint had reclaimed their place at the beer pong table.

Things got a little blurry after that. Bucky and Clint were really good at beer pong, but there was no way they could sink each shot, especially as they got progressively drunker.

When Bucky realized that he couldn’t pick the beer pong ball off the ground because his hands wouldn’t work properly, he decided it was time to take a little break. He tried to go upstairs so he could get some fresh air, but he barely made it to the top of the stairs before he tripped and fell against the wall. Somehow he ended up sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, staring at his hands.

“Ugh,” Natasha said above him. Bucky looked up to see her frowning down at him.

“Hey,” Bucky said happily. She rolled her eyes.

“Clint!” she shouted. Clint appeared in the kitchen doorway, where he was apparently making a new drink.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Why is Bucky completely wasted?”

Clint shrugged. He pointed at someone in the kitchen behind him. “Steve’s fault.”

Steve appeared behind Clint, looking worried. “That’s not my fault!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I know, Steve. Bucky, get up.”

Bucky let his head fall back against the wall. “M’ comfy here.”

She tugged at his arms, but Bucky had no intention of moving. He tried closing his eyes, but the room suddenly lurched around him and he opened them again.

“Woah,” he said in surprise as the world steadied again.

Natasha had somehow found a bottle of water somewhere. She held it out to him. “Drink this. Clint, what did I tell you?”

Clint was standing next to her, both of them looking down at Bucky. Clint was frowning.

“He seemed fine!” Clint said quietly to her. Natasha rolled her eyes again.

“He always does,” she muttered back. Bucky was staring at the water bottle in his hand. It seemed remarkably unappealing, and he let it drop to the floor beside him.

Natasha had her hands on her hips. She didn’t look happy. “He can’t crash here, my sister is going to be home in the morning. I need everyone gone. Bucky, get up.”

Bucky wanted to get up, he really did, but his legs felt really heavy.

“I can take him home,” Clint offered. Natasha gave him a look.

“Clint, you’re probably more drunk than he is.”

“Am not,” Clint protested, but his words were undermined by the way he was leaning on the stair rail.

“I can do it,” Steve said. “I was going to head out soon anyway.”

Natasha appeared to think about this for a moment. “Okay, fine. Do you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“I’ll text you his address. Just text me when he’s home safely, okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. He suddenly appeared in front of Bucky. “Come on, Buck.”

Bucky was suddenly being pulled upright.

“Hey!” Bucky protested feebly as he suddenly found himself standing. Steve sighed.

Bucky decided that he wanted to leave now anyway, and stumbled for the door.

“Bucky!” Natasha shouted after him. “Where’s your jacket?”

“Don’t need it!” Bucky replied as he walked outside. He stood in the street for a moment before picking a random direction. He wasn’t exactly sure which way his neighbourhood was, but this was probably the right way.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hold on,” Steve said as he jogged to catch up with Bucky. “Is this the way to your house?”

“Yes,” Bucky said confidently.

“All right,” Steve said suspiciously.

They walked in silence for a moment. Bucky had to pay a lot of attention to where he was putting his feet.

“Steve,” Bucky said after a moment.

“What?”

“What’s your last name?”

Steve laughed. Bucky decided he liked that sound. “Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. I feel like you know a lot more about me than I know about you.”

Steve still seemed amused. “Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers,” Bucky said. “Steveeeeee Rogers.” He was pretty sure Steve was laughing again. “I like your name.”

“Thanks,” Steve said dryly.

“So, Steve Rogers,” Bucky said. Steve was walking quickly, and Bucky had to stumble more quickly to keep up. “What do you… what do you do when you’re not rescuing me and my family?”

Steve shrugged, his hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “Not much. I used to go to college, but then I had to move back here. Now I just do a few online classes.”

“Why’d you move back?” Bucky said. He was really tired, but he wanted to keep talking to Steve. He liked talking to Steve.

“Long story,” Steve said. The humour was gone from his voice.

“’Kay,” Bucky mumbled. “You don’t have to tell me. We can… we can talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Bucky cast around for a new topic. “Like that streetlight.”

Steve laughed again. “I don’t really know what to say about that streetlight.”

Bucky stumbled over to it and wrapped his arms around the cold metal. “Come on, Steve. Look at it. It’s beautiful.”

Steve patiently walked over to where Bucky was leaning on the streetlight. “It’s beautiful?”

“Sure is,” Bucky said confidently. He leaned his face against the cool surface. “Look how nice it is.”

“You know what else would be nice? Getting you home safely,” Steve said, but he was smiling.

Bucky reluctantly peeled himself away from the streetlight and kept stumbling down the street. “What’s the hurry, Steve? I’m having fun.” He spread his arms out for dramatic effect as he walked.

Steve was still smiling at him as he patiently kept up to Bucky’s stumbling pace. “I’m having fun too, actually, but it’s really cold tonight and you’re not wearing a jacket. If you freeze to death, Natasha will kill me.”

“Nah, she’ll drag me back from the dead and kill me herself,” Bucky told him. He breathed in the crisp air, trying to keep himself awake. He was really, really tired.

Bucky was pretty sure that Steve was talking about something, but Bucky stopped listening. They were walking next to someone’s lawn, and the grass looked very comfortable. Much more comfortable than walking.

Bucky let himself fall onto his side in the grass. He sighed in relief as he closed his eyes, even as the world spun around him.

“Oh, fuck. Bucky, no. Come on, it’s not that far to your house.”

“Don’t want to go back there,” Bucky mumbled into the grass. “Want to stay here.”

“You’re gonna freeze to death here.”

“Don’t care.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, and Bucky slipped a little further down into unconsciousness. It felt nice.

“Bucky, you have to get up. I’m going to have to carry you, otherwise, and I don’t really want to do that.”

Bucky didn’t really want him to do that either. He didn’t need to owe Steve any more than he already did.

Bucky rolled over onto his stomach and slowly pushed himself back to his feet. He tried to take a step forward and immediately fell. Steve caught him.

“Fucking hell,” Steve muttered as he wrapped his arm under Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky tried not to lean on him too much, but his legs were just moving so slowly, and Steve was so warm. Bucky was pretty sure that Steve was taking most of his weight.

“Come on, Bucky, stay awake. Okay, tell me about you. Did you go to college?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled. “Graduated early.”

“That’s great. What did you study?”

“Business. Was boring.”

Steve laughed a little. “Useful, though. Do you have a job?”

Bucky shook his head and instantly regretted it when his head spun even more. “Not now. ‘M supposed to be working down at the bank in January, but got nothing to do until then.”

“At least you’ve got a job lined up. That’s great.”

“I guess,” Bucky mumbled. They were still walking, and Bucky was so tired.

“Hey, no, come on, keep talking.”

Bucky was focusing all his effort on walking, but Steve just keep talking. Bucky let the sound wash over him as he tried to breathe deeply.

It didn’t work, and Bucky finally sighed and pushed Steve away from him. He stumbled over to the side of the road and started throwing up in the bushes.

“You okay?” Steve said after a few minutes.

“Great,” Bucky mumbled. Steve laughed.

“Just go away,” Bucky said a few minutes later. He didn’t really want Steve seeing him like this. “I can make it home, I’m fine.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been throwing up for what, ten minutes now? I don’t really think you’re fine.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky said as he braced his hands on his knees and threw up again. “Look, you shouldn’t have to see me like this. All messed up. Again.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine to me,” Bucky muttered.

“Well, I told Natasha I’d make sure you got home safely. So you’re stuck with me until then.”

“Awesome,” Bucky said sarcastically. Steve didn’t say anything.

When Bucky finally got his breath back, he started walking again. His head was a little clearer now, at least. He was also finally feeling the cold in the air, and crossed his arms. He wished he’d brought his jacket.

Steve didn’t say anything as they walked.

Bucky sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Steve shrugged, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You’re going out of your way to walk me home, and you don’t even know me. Not to mention what you did for me before.”

“It’s fine,” Steve repeated.

Bucky sighed. “Accept the apology, Steve.”

Steve smiled slightly, but he ducked his head so that Bucky couldn’t see. “It’s okay, really. You’re not feeling well.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, but that’s my own fault. Doesn’t give me an excuse to be mean to you.”

Steve shrugged again. “Nah, I’m used to it.”

Bucky frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Steve said firmly. “How much further do we have to go?”

Bucky looked blearily at the closest street sign. “A while.”

Steve kept talking about something else, but Bucky couldn’t pay attention. He was so cold now, and so, so tired.

He was trying to hide how badly he was shaking, but Steve noticed anyway. Steve sighed and shrugged his coat off. He handed it to Bucky, but Bucky stepped away.

“I’m not taking your jacket, Steve,” Bucky muttered through his chattering teeth.

“Just take it, Bucky,” Steve said impatiently. “I’m fine, I’m too warm anyway.”

“I’m not-“ Bucky tried.

“Look, you want to do me a favour? Take the jacket.”

Bucky scowled at him, but he reluctantly pulled his arms through the sleeves and over his shoulders. It was actually really warm, and Bucky couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

By the time they made it to Bucky’s front door, Bucky was walking so slowly that Steve kept having to stop and wait for him. Steve looked worried, but Bucky was too tired to care.

“Do you have your key?” Steve asked quietly as Bucky finally made it to the doorstep. Bucky stared blearily at him.

“No,” he mumbled. “Was in my jacket.”

Steve ran his hands through his hair and stared up at the dark windows. “Is your family home? I’ll just knock -“

“No,” Bucky said hurriedly. “Steve, no, don’t. I’ll just sleep here, it’s fine.”

Steve stared at him. “Bucky, you can’t sleep on the fucking lawn.” He went to knock on the door again.

Bucky was slumped against the doorway, but he reached out and pulled Steve’s hand back. “Please don’t, Steve, please.”

Steve was staring at him worriedly now. “Bucky…”

“Please.”

“Okay,” Steve said finally. “I’ll –“

Bucky never got the chance to find out what Steve was going to say, because the door swung open. Bucky’s mother stood there, wrapped tightly in her robe.

“Hi, Mom,” Bucky mumbled. She looked like she was going to cry.

“Bucky…” she said. Bucky tried to step forward into the warmth of the house, but he tripped on the doorstep and fell onto the floor inside.

Bucky was trying to pull his shoes off, with both Steve and his mother staring at him worriedly, when a door slammed open upstairs. Bucky and his mother both winced, and Steve looked confused.

Bucky groaned as George Barnes appeared at the top of the stairs and thundered down towards them.

“What the hell, Bucky?” he shouted. “Do you know what fucking time it is?”

“No,” Bucky muttered. This apparently was the wrong answer, because George grabbed the back of Bucky’s shirt and hauled him upright. Bucky cried out as the collar dug into his throat and cut off his airway.

“Hey!” Bucky heard Steve say from the doorway.

“It’s all right,” Bucky’s mother said hurriedly. “We’ll take care of him now, thank you for bringing him home. Can I call you a cab?”

“No,” Steve said. “But – “

“Okay, goodnight then!” Bucky’s mother said hastily. Bucky heard the door shut, and he was pretty sure that she’d shut it in Steve’s face. He wasn’t entirely sure, though, because he was being dragged up the stairs by his collar.

“You don’t come into my house drunk, you know that.” George shouted as he pulled him into Bucky’s bedroom. “You woke me up, you woke your mother up –“

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said desperately. “I didn’t – “

Bucky didn’t get to finish his sentence, because George dragged him into the washroom and threw him in the shower. Bucky cried out as his head cracked against the tile.

George turned the shower on, and Bucky was suddenly covered in a spray of freezing water. Bucky screamed, then, as the memories of drowning in the ocean surged back. He struggled to get up, but George put his foot on Bucky’s chest and pushed him back in. That weight only made Bucky feel more like he was drowning. He gasped for air desperately as the pressure on his chest grew.

“That’s enough,” Winifred said sharply from the doorway.

“He’s drunk,” George said. “He needs to learn-“

“He’s learned enough for tonight,” Winifred said firmly. George stared at her for a moment longer, ignoring Bucky’s desperate gasps for air. George finally lifted his foot from Bucky’s chest, and Bucky lurched forward. George turned off the shower, and Bucky scrambled past him onto the washroom floor.

George stalked past both of them, and Bucky heard him go back into the master bedroom.

“Bucky,” his mother said sadly, reaching out for him. Bucky pushed past her and half walked, half crawled back into room.

He stumbled around his bed and threw himself into the space between his nightstand and his armchair. He pulled his knees into his chest as he struggled to get his breath back.

Winifred knelt down in front of him and brushed the damp hair out of his eyes. Bucky flinched back from her touch, and Winifred bit her lip.

“He just doesn’t like seeing you like this,” she said softly. “I don’t either.”

Bucky stared back at her as his chest heaved. He didn’t want to be here. He’d rather still be out walking with Steve.

When Bucky didn’t say anything, Winifred sighed and got back to her feet. “I’ll let you get changed. Come downstairs for breakfast in the morning, okay?”

Bucky stared at the floor as she left the room. The moment she was gone, he scrambled for the door and locked it. Then he started peeling his wet clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He carefully hung Steve’s jacket up so that it would dry.

He pulled his sweatpants on and climbed into his bed. He was shaking again, and badly this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and the comments, guys! I love all of you, as always. Keep letting me know what you think, it keeps me going. I'm at cameronwolfe.tumblr.com if you want to stop by and say hello!


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of his phone ringing finally woke Bucky up. He moaned and rolled over in his bed, burrowing deeper into the covers. The phone just kept ringing though, and Bucky finally angrily kicked off his blankets. He stumbled out of bed and winced as his head pounded.

He finally found his phone in the pocket of his jeans, discarded on the floor. He answered the call and let himself fall back on his bed.

“Hi, Natasha,” he said, and then winced at how dry his mouth was.

“Bucky? Are you okay?”

Bucky cringed as her voice made the pain in his head flare again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Steve said… well, he was pretty worried about you.”

Bucky winced again as the events from last night came flooding back. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. You need to talk to him. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure he’s going to kick down your front door to look for you.”

“Why does he even care?” Bucky asked, staring at the ceiling. “He barely knows me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know him that well either. Clint says that it’s just something he does, though. He just cares about people. About everyone.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“Probably is. Look, I have to go clean this fucking place up before my sister gets home, but I’ll call you later. I still want to talk to you about what happened on the beach.”

Bucky’s stomach twisted. “Okay. Talk to you later.”

He had no intention of discussing this with Natasha later.

Still cringing at the pain in his head, Bucky groggily dragged himself to the washroom and took a shower. He made sure to turn the water to the hottest setting, and waited for it to heat up completely before he got in.

When he was finally relatively presentable, Bucky carefully listened at his door to make sure the house was empty. Not hearing anything, he tentatively left his room and crept downstairs to the kitchen. After chugging two glasses of orange juice and one of water, he grabbed a muffin from the counter and headed back upstairs.

Steve’s jacket was mostly dry by now, and Bucky was relieved to find that it looked to be in pretty good condition. He pulled another one of his own jackets out of his closet and shrugged it on.

Forcing himself to eat the muffin, Bucky headed down the stairs and out the door.

His head was still pounding, but the cool morning air felt good. By the time he reached Steve’s street, his mind felt clearer.

That all changed as he started down the road that lead to the ocean. To his annoyance, his heart rate started to pick up again as the sound of the waves reached his ears. By the time he was walking up the path to Steve’s house, his breath was coming in shallow gasps and his heart was pounding in his ears.

He knocked on the door, clutching Steve’s jacket tightly in his hands. He forced himself to breathe through his nose, desperate to look like he wasn’t a complete mess. Again.

Steve opened the door quickly.

“Hey,” Bucky said before Steve could say anything. “I brought your jacket.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Uh, thanks.” He took the jacket from Bucky’s outstretched hands. He was still staring at Bucky, frowning. Bucky avoided his eyes.

“Thanks for last night,” Bucky said quickly. “And sorry. Again.”

“For what?”

Bucky tried not to roll his eyes. “Uh, for ruining your night?”

Steve was still frowning. “You didn’t ruin my night.”

Bucky wanted to keep arguing, but his chest was still getting tighter and his head was starting to spin. Why the fuck did Steve have to live right by the fucking ocean?

“Bucky.”

Bucky looked back up and realized that Steve had probably been trying to get his attention for a few moments now.

“Sorry,” Bucky said breathlessly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said. He hated Steve seeing him like this again, and all he wanted to do was walk back home. His head was spinning so much that Bucky doubted his ability to take a single step, let alone walk all the way back up Steve’s street. “It’s just… it’s the ocean. The sound.”

“What do you – oh,” Steve said. He was still frowning, but he quickly stood back and opened the door wider. “Uh, do you want to come in?”

Bucky wanted to say no, he really did. He’d already troubled Steve enough. But his head was spinning and all he wanted was for the sound of the ocean to stop, and so he stepped past Steve into the house.

Steve closed the door behind him, and Bucky walked unsteadily over to the couch and sat down. He let his head fall back against the couch and watched dizzily as Steve walked around the room.

The inside of Steve’s house was small but nice. The floors and walls were all painted white, and the furniture was old and comfortable. Large windows looked out over the ocean, and Steve quickly pulled them all shut. The sound of the ocean vanished immediately, and Steve disappeared around the corner into the small kitchen that Bucky had gotten a glimpse of when he walked in.

Steve reappeared a moment later holding a glass of water. He put it down on the table in front of Bucky and sat in the chair opposite.

With the sound of the ocean gone, Bucky calmed down quickly. He winced as his mind settled down and he realized he’d freaked out once again in front of Steve.

“Sorry,” he said for probably the hundredth time.

Steve shrugged. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Bucky groaned and let his head fall back against the couch again. “I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“Like what?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “Like a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a fucking mess.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky said. “Steve, every time I’ve seen you I’ve either been rude, or I’ve been freaking out over something.”

Steve shrugged again. “It’s okay.”

“You need to stop,” Bucky said.

“Stop what?”

“Being so fucking… nice. About everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky stared at him. “Okay, now you’re just fucking with me.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay. Sorry. But really, Bucky. I don’t think you’re a mess. I just… keep running into you at rough times, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I have a lot of rough times.”

Steve shrugged again. “Everybody does.”

“Not everybody makes someone they’ve only met a handful of times walk them home from a party halfway across town and then keeps their jacket overnight.”

Steve laughed again. Bucky loved the sound of his laugh. “You brought it back. I don’t mind. Anyway, I have some leftover pizza in the fridge, do you want some?”

“Oh,” Bucky said, a little taken off guard. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve got up and went back into the kitchen. Bucky sipped at his water and looked around the room. There was a desk with a computer on it in the corner, angled to look out over the ocean. The part of the walls that weren’t covered by windows were covered in paintings and drawings.

Bucky was already feeling a lot better, and he got up and started walking around. He walked from painting to painting, examining each one in detail. They were clearly all done by the same person, and each one was meticulously detailed.

“Did you do these?” Bucky asked as Steve came back into the room. He was carrying two plates of pizza.

“Yeah,” Steve said hesitantly. “I know it’s kind of obnoxious to have your own paintings hanging all around your house, but my mom really liked them.”

“Nah,” Bucky said, staring at a framed drawing of a woman reading a book. “These are amazing, Steve. They definitely should be hung up everywhere.”

“Really?” Steve asked incredulously as he set the pizza down on the coffee table.

“Yes. Do you sell these?”

Steve laughed. “No. It’s just a hobby.”

“You should sell some! I’d buy one. Or ten.”

Steve was staring at him. “Bucky, you don’t have to say that.”

Bucky was looking at a small painting of the town library. “Say what? I mean it, Steve. These are amazing.”

“Okay, well,” Steve mumbled. “Thanks.” He was blushing.

Bucky finally tore himself away from the paintings and went to sit back on the couch. He grabbed his pizza from the table and sat back, thinking. Steve had referred to his mother in the past tense, and the quiet of the house hadn’t escaped Bucky’s notice.

“So…” Bucky started carefully as they ate. “Do you live here by yourself?”

“Yep,” Steve said, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. “My mom and I moved here a few years ago, but she passed away a while back.”

Bucky winced internally, his suspicions confirmed. “I’m sorry.”

Steve shrugged, still not looking at Bucky. “Thanks.”

“And you’ve lived here by yourself since then?”

Steve’s face darkened slightly, and he looked down at the floor. Bucky’s stomach twisted.

“It’s, uh, it’s only been two months, so…” Steve said, still not looking at Bucky.

“Shit,” Bucky said, wanting to punch himself in the face. “I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Steve said hastily. “It’s just… no one ever really asks about it, so I’m not really used to talking about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

Steve kept staring at the floor. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Bucky was awkwardly casting about for something to say, but Steve seemed to be lost in thought.

Bucky’s eyes finally landed on the tv in the corner, and the pile of video games stacked on the floor next to it. “Shit, you’ve got that new racing game that Ethan wanted for his birthday.”

Steve seemed relieved at the change in the subject. “Yeah, but I’ve never played it. Want to?”

“Yes,” Bucky said immediately. He set up the Xbox while Steve found the controllers.

Two hours of playing a repetitive but fun car racing game later, Bucky finally checked his watch.

“I should get going,” he said. “I’ve already taken up enough of your day as it is.”

“Okay,” Steve said. Bucky thought he sounded a little sad. Maybe he was just imagining it, though.

Bucky got up and found his shoes, putting his jacket back on. Steve leaned against the wall as Bucky opened the door.

“Bucky…” Steve said slowly. Bucky paused, his hand on the doorknob.

“I didn’t know if I should bring this up,” Steve said. “But, uh, last night… when your dad came down the stairs?”

“Oh,” Bucky said. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t think I can not worry about it.”

Bucky clenched his hand around the doorknob. “Really, it’s fine. He just gets pissed at me sometimes. He hates it when I drink.”

“Bucky, he dragged you up the stairs by your shirt. Your neck is bruised from it.”

Bucky self-consciously rubbed at his neck. He hadn’t even noticed. “Look, it’s just… it’s fine, okay? Really.”

Steve was still frowning, but he seemed to realize that Bucky wasn’t going to budge on this. “All right.”

Bucky stepped through the door, and Steve moved to lean against the doorframe.

“Bucky,” Steve said again. Bucky paused on the doorstep. “If something like that happens again, with him… you know you can come here, right? I don’t mind.”

Bucky stared at him, his hands in his pockets. “It won’t.”

“But if it does?”

“Okay,” Bucky said finally. “Um, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Bucky rubbed at his neck again, a weird feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with the sound of the ocean. “Well, I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Steve nodded, but he was still frowning. “Yeah.”

Bucky awkwardly waved as he made it to the end of the path and walked back up onto the road. Steve waved back as he shut the door.

Bucky pulled out his phone as he walked and texted Natasha.

_Steve’s mom died two months ago??? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that_

His phone buzzed again almost instantly. He opened it to read Natasha’s reply.

_What?!?!?!?!_

Bucky stared at his phone, wide eyed.

_You didn’t know?_

_no! I dont think clint did either. One sec_

Bucky’s phone buzzed again a moment later.

_Clint didn’t know_

Bucky sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the delay between updates!!! I'll try to post more frequently, I promise. Thank you guys so much for the lovely messages I've had about this, it means the world to me.


	7. Chapter 7

The house was still quiet when he got home, and Bucky headed straight upstairs for his room. He shut the door behind him and grabbed his laptop, letting himself fall into his desk chair. He immediately pulled up Facebook and searched up ‘Steve Rogers’.

He added him as a friend, and Steve accepted his request almost immediately. Bucky quickly sent him a message.

_Steve im so sorry but I told Natasha about your mom and she told clint, I didn’t know that they didn’t know, I’m so sorry. Again_

The message showed that Steve had seen his message, and Bucky waited impatiently for a reply.

_That would explain the two missed calls from Natasha and four from clint_

Bucky cringed.

_Im sorry im sorry im sorry_

Steve was apparently a slow typer, and Bucky winced as he watched the little bubble that showed that Steve was typing.

_It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I should have told them anyway, they were going to find out sooner or later_

Bucky stared at his screen, biting his lip and frowning. He distantly heard the sound of doors opening in his house as the kids got home from school.

_If  you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you? Tell them, I mean_

Steve’s message came a minute later

_I didn’t want to bother them_

Bucky groaned.

_Steve, that’s not the type of thing that bothers people??_

Bucky winced again at Steve’s reply.

_Can we not talk about this anymore_

He sighed as he typed his reply.

_Yeah, of course. But if you ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me about it. Like what you said earlier, about my dad. Except kind of the other way around now_

Steve’s reply took a while, but Bucky breathed a sigh of relief when he read it.

_Okay. Thanks, buck_

 

Despite their weirdly intense promises to each other, Bucky didn’t see or hear from Steve for another two weeks. He heard from Natasha that Steve and Clint had gotten into an argument about Steve not telling Clint about his mother’s death. Apparently the argument had been mostly Clint’s fault. Bucky tried messaging Steve about it, but there was no reply and it didn’t show that Steve had seen the message.

Bucky tried to put it out of his mind, but it didn’t really work. He found himself thinking about Steve more and more often as the silence stretched on. He was worried that he’d accidentally made Steve really angry somehow, and the thought of that wouldn’t leave his mind. These new worries didn’t overtake the other worries in Bucky’s mind, but simply fit nicely alongside them. He still paced back and forth down the hallway every night, checking in on his siblings, but now he thought about Steve as well. He was the first thing Bucky thought of when he woke up every afternoon, and each day of silence made it worse.

After two weeks of radio silence from Steve, Bucky woke up to the sound of a knock on his door and his mother’s cheerful voice.

“Bucky!” she called through the door. Bucky ignored her and pulled the blankets over his head.

“Bucky, I know you can hear me. Your father and I have to go up to your grandmother’s house today to help her move to her new retirement community, and we’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I need you to pick the kids up from school, so you have to get out of bed. We’ll be back on Friday.”

Bucky scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping as his legs tangled in his blankets. He stumbled towards the door and pulled it open. His mother jumped slightly, clearly not expecting him to have actually gotten up.

“What?”

Winifred frowned at him. “We’re leaving in a few minutes to go help your grandmother move –“

“No, no, I heard that,” Bucky said impatiently. “Why didn’t you ask me about this earlier? I have stuff to do, I can’t take care of the kids until Friday – “

“I did tell you,” Winifred said. “I told you on Saturday, and again on Sunday.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t hear that!” Bucky said, slightly panicked. His heart was thumping in his chest again.

“And you don’t have ‘stuff’ to do,” Winifred continued. “You spend every day locked in your room, and it’s worrying me. It’ll be good for you to be out and about with the kids.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’, Bucky,” Winifred said warningly. “You are living in the house for free until you get your job in January, and we don’t ask that much of you. You don’t even do chores.”

Bucky winced slightly. She was right about that.

“So the least you can do is help me out with the kids every so often. There’s groceries in the fridge, and the car keys are on the kitchen table.”

“Mom,” Bucky said desperately. Winifred was already heading back down the hall to the stairs.

“Try and feed them something other than pizza for every meal!” she called over her shoulder. Bucky groaned and thumped his head against the door frame.

Despite his reluctance to leave the house and to see his siblings, Bucky couldn’t abandon them at school. He grumpily got dressed and shoved his feet into his shoes, grabbing his phone as he headed out the door. His parents had already left, and he barely remembered to lock the front door behind him.

Bucky walked all the way to his siblings’ school. It was only about a fifteen minute walk, but it was still more exercise than Bucky had gotten in weeks. The late afternoon sun beamed down on his face, and the fresh air felt good in his lungs. His stomach was twisting with trepidation about seeing his siblings, though. He hadn’t actually spoken to them properly in weeks, and he hadn’t talked to Grace at all since the incident. He wasn’t sure how they would react to him suddenly being in charge.

He waited awkwardly outside the school’s fence until the bell rang. The parents clustered around the gate all chatted avidly to one another, casting him weird looks. Bucky fidgeted impatiently, uncomfortable with the glares.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was actually only five minutes), the bell rang and kids started to pour out of the school doors. Ethan and Rebecca were part of the first group out, and they raced each other to the gate.

Both of them skidded to a halt outside the gate, looking around in obvious confusion. Rebecca saw Bucky first, and her face lit up. She ran over and threw her arms around him.

“Bucky!” she said happily. Bucky hugged her back.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. “Mom’s out of town, so I’m picking you guys up today.”

“Okay,” Rebecca said, disentangling herself from Bucky. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly, obviously not holding Bucky’s sullen behaviour against him.

Ethan, however, slouched slowly up to Bucky with his arms crossed.

“Why are _you_ here?” he asked.

“Mom’s out of town until Friday,” Bucky repeated.

Ethan scowled. “How come you get to be in charge then?”

“Because I’m the oldest.”

“So?”

“So that means I’m in charge when Mom’s gone,” Bucky told him patiently as he scanned the crowd of children for Grace. He couldn’t see her anywhere in the sea of parents and children, and his anxiety as skyrocketing. “Rebecca, does she get out of class at the same time as you?”

“Yes,” Rebecca said calmly. “But it takes her forever to put her shoes on. She’ll be here soon.”

Sure enough, Grace appeared a moment later and bounced eagerly towards them. Her eyes widened when she saw Bucky, and a range of emotions flashed across her small face.

She walked up to him slowly, her eyes still wide and her hands clutching the straps of her backpack.

“Hi,” Bucky said awkwardly.

“Hello,” Grace said quietly, staring up at him.

“Uh, is everyone ready to go?” Bucky asked. He hated the awkwardness between him and his siblings, even though he knew it was his own fault.

“Yes,” they all said at once. Bucky led the way back down the street, trying to keep an eye on all three of them at once. Rebecca clung to his hand, eagerly chatting about her day. Bucky tried to comment at the right moments, but Grace kept wandering out into the street as she walked and it was stressing him out. Finally he reached out and grabbed Grace’s hand with his free one, pulling her back on the sidewalk. She looked up at him again, surprised, but her hand tightened around his.

Ethan walked a few feet behind them, kicking idly at rocks with each step. Bucky had to keep slowing his pace to match his, never letting Ethan get more than a few feet behind him.

When they finally got home, Ethan stormed off to the living room and threw his backpack on the floor. Bucky sighed as he heard the tv turn on. Rebecca followed Bucky into the kitchen, still talking excitedly. Grace trailed behind Rebecca, still watched Bucky warily.

Bucky finally managed to convince Rebecca to do her homework, although he didn’t dare ask Ethan. Grace sat quietly at the table next to Rebecca, her favourite doll held tightly in her arms.

By the time dinner time rolled around, Bucky was staring helplessly into the fridge.

“Why do we only have weird looking vegetables?” he asked as he stared at the shelves packed full of green leaves.

“Mom’s on another organic diet,” Rebecca informed him.

“It’s gross,” Grace said, one of the few things that she’d said all afternoon.

“I’m not going to eat any more leaves!” Ethan shouted from the living room.

Bucky sighed and shut the fridge door. “If I order pizza, is anyone going to tell Mom?”

Rebecca shrieked with joy and Grace smiled. There was no sound from Ethan, but that was better than an outright refusal.

By the time the pizza showed up, Rebecca had finished her homework and was watching tv with Ethan in the living room. Grace was following Bucky around the house, still clutching her doll and not saying a word.

“Can we eat in here?” Rebecca called as Bucky carefully carried the stack of pizza boxes into the kitchen.

“Nope,” Bucky said as he set the boxes on the table. “Too messy. You guys can go back to watching tv after you eat, if you want.”

“Okay,” Rebecca said happily as she skipped into the kitchen. She and Grace opened up their pizza box, and Rebecca helped Grace get a slice for herself.

“I want to eat in here,” Ethan shouted from the living room.

Bucky sighed. “Look, just pause the tv and come eat in here for five minutes.”

“No!”

“Fine,” Bucky said calmly. “Then no pizza. You can either eat it in here, or not eat it at all.”

Ethan jumped off the couch and stormed into the living room. He grabbed for his pizza box, but Bucky got it first and held it above his head.

“Are you going to eat it in here?”

Ethan stamped his foot and scowled. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Bucky!”

“When Mom’s not here, I do, actually,” Bucky said, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice.

“No you don’t!” Ethan shouted. “You never come out of your room and play with us anymore, you never take us anywhere or do anything fun! You don’t even talk to us! And now you want to pretend that everything’s normal, and it’s not!  I hate you, and I don’t want your stupid pizza!”

Ethan then turned and ran up the stairs into his room, slamming the door behind him.

“He’s mad at you,” Rebecca told Bucky calmly through a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah,” Bucky said slowly. “I see that. You think you can manage on your own for a few minutes?”

“Yep,” Rebecca said.

Bucky picked up Ethan’s pizza box and headed up the stairs. The sound of footsteps behind him made him glance back. Sure enough, Grace was standing behind him again, holding her pizza in one hand and her doll with the other.

Bucky stared at her for a moment, and then knocked on Ethan’s door.

“Ethan?” he called hesitantly. “I brought you your pizza. You can eat it in here if you want.”

“I’m not hungry and I don’t want to talk to you!” Ethan shouted back. Bucky sighed.

“Can I come in and talk to you for a minute?”

“No!”

“I’ll let you eat the last piece of cake in the fridge.”

“No.”

“I’ll… I’ll ask my friend if you can borrow his Xbox car racing game, that one that you really wanted to play.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay,” Ethan said finally. Bucky sighed and pushed the door open.

Ethan was sitting on his bed, his arms crossed across his chest and a scowl firmly on his face. Bucky slowly sat down on the end of his bed and put the pizza box between them. Grace followed him into the room and silently sat down on the floor beside the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said when Ethan refused to look at him. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been around much lately. I’m gonna try to do better, I promise.”

Ethan stared stubbornly at the wall. “Rebecca said you were mad at me because I didn’t go into the water to help you find Grace.”

Bucky groaned. “Ethan, no, of course not. Don’t believe everything Rebecca says.”

“I don’t,” Ethan said, but he turned to finally look Bucky in the eyes.

“I’m not mad at you at all,” Bucky said hurriedly. “I never have been, I promise. I was mad at myself, okay? Not you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were great, actually. Way better than I was.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly. “Everyone said so.”

“Mom said I’m good in a crisis,” Ethan told him, a little proudly.

“You are.”

“Rebecca’s not.”

Bucky laughed. “No, Rebecca is too. Both of you are. Now, are you going to eat this pizza or am I going to have to eat all of it?”

Ethan grabbed the box and jumped off his bed. “No, it’s mine! You said I could eat it. Also, you said I could play your friend’s Xbox game.”

“Yep,” Bucky said. “But Ethan, you do understand me, right? You know that I was never upset with you.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, his earlier bad mood apparently gone. “Can we go back downstairs? I want a juice box. Mom doesn’t let me drink juice with dinner, but can I?”

“Yes.”

Ethan cheered and ran back down the stairs, shouting to Rebecca about the juice.

Bucky looked at Grace. “Want to come back downstairs?”

She nodded, and followed him back down the stairs, still watching him carefully. Her silence was breaking Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t know how to address it.

Grace didn’t say another word all evening. She didn’t respond when Bucky said goodnight to her, or when he had to chase Ethan back into his room when he kept trying to start a pillow fight with Rebecca. Grace just got ready for bed on her own and then crawled into her bed, even turning off her own light. Bucky hovered awkwardly in her doorway for a while, but he didn’t know what to say. He eventually just grabbed his laptop from his room and headed back downstairs.

He opened up Facebook and starting typing a message to Steve, but he didn’t know how to phrase it. He definitely didn’t feel like he could ask Steve for any favours, considering what Steve had already done for him, but he’d promised Ethan a chance to play that Xbox game.

Bucky sat with a piece of cold pizza in one hand and stared at his laptop, frowning. Before he could type anything, though, a notification dinged and a message from Steve popped up.

_Hey, you took business courses in college, right?_

Bucky nearly dropped his pizza in his haste to reply.

_Yeah, why?_

Steve’s answer came almost immediately.

_I hate to ask this, and I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you, but could you help me with my stats course? It’s online and I have an exam next week and I don’t understand any of this. If you’re busy or just don’t want to, don’t worry about it, I can probably figure it out_

Bucky shoved the rest of his pizza in his mouth so he could use both hands to type.

_no I can help!!! I was really good at stats, you can ask Natasha. I’ll make you a deal, I’ll help you with stats if you lend me that xbox game so my brother can play it_

Bucky waited impatiently for Steve’s reply, once again rolling his eyes at Steve’s slow typing speed.

_Yeah that would be great! Thanks_

_No problem,_ Bucky wrote. _Im free tomorrow evening if you want to come over then? My brother and sisters will be here but as long as I keep the tv on they won’t bug us_

Steve’s reply was faster this time.

_Yeah, ok, that works! 7pm?_

_Awesome_

_Ok, see you then_

Bucky grinned, the giddy feeling in his chest driving away his normal anxieties that started around this time of night.


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky was still sitting on the couch when he heard the familiar sound of small footsteps coming down the stairs. He muted the tv and waited. Sure enough, Grace’s head poked around the corner.

“Hey,” Bucky said, setting his laptop on the couch beside him. Grace didn’t say anything.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Bucky tried again. Grace stared at him for another long moment before she slowly shook her head.

“No,” she mumbled. “Had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She shook her again.

Bucky sighed. “Want to come watch tv with me instead?”

After a moment’s deliberation, Grace carried her too-large teddy bear over to the couch and sat down next to Bucky. She stared determinedly at the screen, even though the tv was muted.

“Grace,” Bucky said after a moment. When she didn’t reply, he tried again. “Grace?”

“Yes?” she said, still not looking at him.

“I’m sorry.”

She turned and looked at him then, but she burrowed her face into her teddy bear as she did so. “Why?”

Bucky stared back. “Um, because of everything? Because of what happened at the beach, and how I’ve been since then. It’s my fault that you got hurt, and I can never apologize to you enough for that but I’m going to try – “

Grace scowled at him. “Oh, that? Don’t be silly, Bucky. That was my fault.”

“What? Of course it wasn’t your fault, Grace. You’re seven, I’m twenty-one, I should have kept a better eye on you – “

Grace shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Noooo, I swam out past the dock even though you said not to, because there was a rock under the water that I wanted to look at, but then my legs got cold and then suddenly they started hurting and wouldn’t move and then I couldn’t swim…”

Bucky felt sick. “Exactly! I should have noticed – “

Grace frowned at him. “No, I shouldn’t have swam deeper. Rebecca said that that’s why you’re in your room all the time, because you don’t want to be around me anymore –“

“Jesus christ,” Bucky said, letting his head drop into his hands. “Don’t listen to anything Rebecca says.”

“Mom says Rebecca likes to make trouble,” Grace told him

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, she does. Okay, Grace, I messed all of this up, and I’m so sorry for it. I let you get hurt, and then I was too much of a coward to actually deal with it.”

“Dad calls you a coward a lot.”

Bucky sighed again, this time for a different reason. “I’m sure he does. But forget about him for a second. You know that I would never be mad at you about something like this, right?”

“Okay.”

“And if I’ve been avoiding you since, it’s because of me and my stupid brain, okay? It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Okay.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you listening to what I’m saying or are you just saying okay?”

“No, I’m listening!” Grace insisted. “You aren’t mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Grace said happily. She hugged her teddy bear, and then frowned again. “You still look sad.”

Bucky tried to smile encouragingly at her.

Grace laughed. “Not like that, you just look silly like that. Why are you still sad?”

Bucky shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Because I still feel bad about you getting hurt.”

Grace gently hit him in the face with her teddy bear, and then snuggled up into the pillows on the couch. “Don’t be sad. I’m fine, you’re fine, Teddy’s fine, everyone’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled, his eyes drifting closed. “Everyone’s fine.”

 

He actually slept that night, even though he didn’t mean to. When Bucky opened his eyes again, he was still curled on the couch with Grace snuggled up next to him. The sun was just starting to shine through the windows.

Feeling actually rested for the first time in weeks, Bucky somehow managed to get all the kids ready for school and out the door on time. Admittedly, they ate cold leftover pizza for breakfast, but at least they _had_ breakfast.

Bucky dropped them off at school and watched through the gate until they were safely inside the doors. Feeling that nagging sense of responsibility leave him for the time being, Bucky turned and walked home.

Now that he wasn’t sleeping through each day, Bucky found himself even more restless. He ended up pacing around the house, cleaning up the kitchen and living room obsessively. He even cleaned his room.

That took all of one hour, and Bucky ended up sitting miserably on the couch. He tried just watching tv, but he ended up getting bored of that after half an hour.

Thankfully, Rebecca called him just before noon because she’d forgotten her lunch. Bucky found her lunchbag on the kitchen table and walked it down to the school for her. After he dropped it off, he ended up trying to jog around the neighborhood to kill time. He took an extra-long shower when he got home, just for something to do.

Finally, it was time to go pick the kids up from school again. Bucky’s mood improved considerably as they all walked home. Their easy chatter distracted him from his restless thoughts.

After another dinner of pizza, mainly because Bucky refused to subject any of them to the weird looking vegetables in the fridge, Bucky finally convinced Ethan and Rebecca to start their homework. Admittedly, they worked on their assignments sitting on the floor in front of the tv, but Bucky figured that was good enough.

The doorbell rang, and Bucky’s stomach turned over. In a good way, though, not a panic attack way. He tripped over Rebecca’s backpack in the hallway and stumbled to the door swearing under his breath.

He opened the door to find Steve standing on his doorstep, backpack over his shoulder.

“Hi,” Bucky said happily. “Nice to see you standing outside my house instead of the other way around.”

Steve smiled, but his face was lined with stress. “Hey. I’m sorry to bother you, I’m sure you have things to do-“

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped back, holding the door open. “Come on, come in. I seriously have nothing to do. You have no idea how bored I’ve been all day.”

Steve stepped past him and nearly walked straight into Grace, who had apparently followed Bucky to the door. She jumped back behind Bucky.

“Hi,” Steve said, smiling at her. “You probably don’t remember me.”

Grace shook her head.

“I’m Steve,” he said, kneeling down so that he was at her eye level. Grace looked up at Bucky.

“Say hi,” he whispered to her.

“Hi,” Grace said to Steve, still standing slightly behind Bucky.

“This is Grace,” Bucky said to him. Steve looked up at him and smiled, getting back to his feet.

“You look a lot better than the last time I saw you,” Steve told her. Grace nodded again.

“A lot of people say that,” she said calmly. “Mostly the people at the hospital when I have to go back for checkups.”

Steve nodded wisely, and then looked up again as Ethan careened around the corner.

“Oh,” he said as he saw Steve standing in the entranceway. “Hi. Again.”

“Hi,” Steve said. “Ethan, right? I’m Steve.”

“I know,” Ethan said cheerful. He looked at Bucky. “Bucky, is he the friend bringing the xbox game?”

“Ethan,” Bucky said as he winced. “Sorry, Steve. I promise I didn’t ask you to come over here just for the xbox game.”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay.” He let his backpack slide off his shoulder and pulled the game out of it. “Here.”

“Yesssss,” Ethan shouted. “Thanks!” he called over his shoulder as he ran back into the living room. “Rebecca! I got the game!”

“Sorry,” Bucky said to Steve again. “Come on, the kitchen’s probably the best place to do this.”

Steve and Grace followed Bucky back into the kitchen, which was actually mostly clean thanks to Bucky’s restlessness this morning. New pizza boxes and plates now covered the table though, and Bucky hurried to clean the table off.

“Thanks for offering to help,” Steve said as he pulled various textbooks and notebooks out of his bag. He dropped them onto the table and then sat defeatedly on one of the kitchen chairs. He stared hopelessly at the pile of textbooks in front of him.

“Steve. I don’t mind,” Bucky said again. He sat down on the chair opposite, absent-mindedly steadying Grace as she climbed up on the chair next to him. “Okay, what exactly do you need help with?”

“All of it,” Steve said desperately. He gestured wildly at the books.

Bucky picked one of them up and glanced at the cover. “All of statistics? Like the entire course?”

“Yes,” Steve said miserably.

Bucky winced as he opened the textbook and flipped through a few of the pages. “When’s the exam?”

“Tomorrow,” Steve mumbled. He dropped his head into his hands.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mom says you’re supposed to study for a few days before a test, not the night before,” Grace told him, her elbows propped on the table.

“Mom’s right,” Bucky said to her.

“I’ve been studying!” Steve insisted. “I’ve been working on this course since it started. I do two hours of work on it every day.”

Bucky frowned at him over the pile of textbooks. “That’s really good, though. I’m sure you know more of this than you think you do – “

“I don’t,” Steve said. “I just…. I don’t get it, when I just have to read it from the textbook, but that’s the way my online course works. And my mom helped me with it, at first, but then she got too sick and then she couldn’t anymore, and I can’t figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said hurriedly. “It’s okay, Steve. It’s just a class. It’ll work out.”

“I need to pass it though!”

“I know,” Bucky said, as soothingly as he could. “I get it. Look, let’s just get started, okay?”

Bucky grabbed the textbook that looked the simplest and opened it up. “Chapter one and two are pretty simple, but it starts getting more complicated around three. Were there things you didn’t understand in those first two?”

“No,” Steve said miserably. His head was still in his hands. “Chapter three was where it got worse.”

“Okay, we’ll start there,” Bucky said as he turned the textbook so Steve could see too.

With the exception of a quick break so that Bucky could send all the kids to bed, they worked all night. By the time the sun was rising, Steve and Bucky were sprawled on the living room floor surrounded by textbooks and notebooks. Steve was lying on his back with his head propped on a textbook, staring at the ceiling while Bucky explained the concepts of chapter nine to him. Bucky left Steve to take a quick nap on his couch while he walked the kids to school, but he ran all the way home to wake Steve up again.

Steve had to write his exam in-person at the local college in town, even though his course was an online class from a different university. Bucky walked him there, still explaining chapters of the textbook while they walked. He left Steve at the doorway to the college, smiling encouragingly even as Steve cast him a desperate look.

Bucky thought about going home, but he hated the thought of returning to that empty house. He knew he’d only pace it restlessly.

Bucky ended up walking into down and getting breakfast at one of the small coffeeshops. He ate slowly, watching the time carefully. He finally ordered two large coffees to go and carried them all the way back to the college. He sat down on a bench outside, slumping back and sipping at his coffee.

He must have actually fallen asleep again, because when he opened his eyes Steve was standing in front of him.

“Hey,” Steve said, blinking tiredly. Bucky held out one of the coffees to him, and Steve took it gratefully.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asked, stretching his back and sitting up.

Steve shrugged, but he didn’t look as panicked as he had the night before. “It was tough, but I answered almost every question, so… could have been worse.”

Bucky blinked up at him before climbing to his feet. “Yay,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

Steve laughed, his face already looking brighter. “Thank you, Bucky. For all of this.”

Bucky waved his hand at him as they started to walk out of the college grounds. “Nah. I like doing it.”

“You liked spending all night helping me with a class you probably passed years ago?”

“Yes.”

Steve smiled again. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Say what? I’m not lying,” Bucky said. He tiredly kicked at a rock as they walked.

Steve made a face. “Come on. Most people don’t even like spending any time with me, let alone helping me study for an exam all night.”

“No way,” Bucky said as he drained the last of his coffee. “I don’t believe that at all. Why wouldn’t anyone want to hang out with you?”

Steve was looking at him strangely, but Bucky was too tired to decipher it.

“Apparently I’m boring,” Steve told him.

“What? No,” Bucky said again. “Who told you that?”

Steve shrugged. “Lots of people have. Mostly people at school, I guess.”

“Well, they clearly didn’t know you,” Bucky said as they reached the road that led into his neighbourhood.

“Maybe,” Steve said, but his voice still had doubt in it. “Thanks again, Bucky. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he started to walk up the hill into his neighbourhood. “Bye.”

The two of them parted ways, as Steve kept walking down the road towards his house. Bucky was halfway up the hill before he turned around.

“Steve!” he shouted, not caring that the old woman walking by him gave him a dirty look. Steve turned around, squinting against the light.

“Yeah?” he called back.

 “They’re wrong, you know that right? You’re not boring,” Bucky shouted at him. Steve stared at him for a moment, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.

“All right,” Steve called back. Bucky waved at him and continued up the hill.

He fell asleep when he got home, falling facedown on his bed. He woke up a few hours later when he heard the familiar sounds of his family returning home, including his mother’s voice echoing through the house. Bucky rolled over and opened his laptop. He had a message from Steve, and he blinked tiredly as he opened it.

_Hey, I just realized I left all my textbooks and stuff at your house, I’m really sorry. I can come by and get them whenever you want?_

Bucky quickly started typing out a message back to him.

_Oh I totally forgot about that… does Monday work? You can come by then_

He picked Monday because his parents would be at work for most of that day. Steve wrote back a few minutes later.

_Yeah that would be great, thanks again bucky_

Bucky closed his laptop again, already looking forward to Monday.

As it turned out, he saw Steve a lot sooner than Monday. 


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky was sitting on the floor of Rebecca’s room when his phone buzzed. He tried to pull his phone out of his pocket without moving his head, but apparently he didn’t do it well enough.

“Hey!” Rebecca protested, pulling on his hair. “I told you not to move!”

“We still have the other half of your hair to do,” one of Rebecca’s friends told him solemnly.

“Sorry,” Bucky told them as he checked his messages. Rebecca and her friends had apparently decided that they wanted to open a hair salon, and Bucky was their first customer. He refused to let them cut his hair, and so they had settled for putting as many hair clips into it as they could.

He had a text from Natasha, telling him to be downtown at the movie theatre that night at ten. Apparently Clint had somehow rented out the entire theatre when he’d tried to buy tickets for him and Natasha, and so now they needed people to come watch the movie with him. Bucky texted back and told her he’d be there, and went back to letting a group of ten year old girls destroy his hair.

His phone buzzed again a moment later, and Bucky opened his texts again. Ignoring Rebecca’s protests, he read another text from Natasha.

_Steve’s going to be there_

He frowned at the screen for a moment before texting back.

_Ok?_

He was actually really happy that Steve was going to be there, but he didn’t see why Natasha would go out of her way to tell them that.

She texted back a moment later.

_Just thought you’d want to know_

Bucky stared at the screen for a moment before giving up and tossing it back on the floor.

 

That night, he _maybe_ spent a little more time getting ready than usual. That, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that Steve would be there. That would be ridiculous, considering Steve had already seen him at his worst on multiple occasions.

Still, he wore his favourite blue shirt because he was pretty sure Steve would like it.

He hovered just inside his bedroom door until he was sure that his father was in the downstairs office, rather than in the kitchen or living room. He hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could, pausing to kiss his mother on the cheek and ruffle Grace’s hair before he ran out the door. It was his usual routine before he went out anywhere, and it felt nice to be getting back to it.

It was raining gently as he walked, but it didn’t bother him. It felt a little refreshing, actually, and Bucky felt more peaceful than he had in a while. The sound of the ocean reached his ears at one point during his walk and it made him feel a little sick, but he just walked faster until the sound passed. He was really feeling pretty good by the time he made it downtown.

Bucky almost made it to the theatre, he really did. He was only one block away, his shoulders hunched again the rain and his hands in his pockets.

He wasn’t paying much attention as he walked, lost in his thoughts. He started paying attention, though, when Steve suddenly fell backwards out of the alley in front of him. Steve nearly cracked his head on the sidewalk, but he got his hands out behind him just in time.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said as he jumped back. He looked up just in time to see another guy launch himself at Steve out of the alley, with Steve rolling out of the way just in time. Steve was already back on his feet, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead. He kicked out at the guy’s ribs, and the man shrieked in pain.

Bucky was still staring at the scene in front of him in shock, until he saw the second guy run out of the alley straight at Steve. Bucky saw the familiar glint of a knife in the man’s hand, and it snapped him out of his shock. He didn’t think twice as he threw himself at the guy, body-slamming him into the brick wall of the building. The guy’s head connected with the bricks, and he dropped straight to the ground. The knife fell harmlessly out of the man’s hand as he moaned, curled on the ground.

Bucky turned around to see the man that Steve was fighting try to get to his feet again. Steve kicked him in the face this time, and the man screamed again and swung his fists wildly at Steve. Steve dodged them easily, but the sound of running footsteps made both him and Bucky turn around.

Another group of very angry looking men were running towards them. From the looks on their faces, Bucky had to guess that they were friends with the men that Steve and Bucky had just beaten up.

“Shit,” Bucky said.

“Fuck,” Steve said at the same time. Steve clenched his jaw and turned to face them, raising his fists again.

“Are you crazy?” Bucky shouted at him. He stumbled over the man lying at Steve’s feet, grabbing Steve’s arm and pulling him with him. “Go!”

“They –“ Steve tried to protest as Bucky forcibly dragged him along the sidewalk.

“I don’t care!” Bucky shouted at him. “Come on!”

Steve apparently then clued into the fact that they were drastically outnumbered, and started running after Bucky. Luckily for them, Bucky knew the town a whole lot better than their attackers did. Occasionally glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Steve was still following him, Bucky took off through the maze of old alleyways and narrow streets. It was quiet at this time of night, and they quickly lost their attackers.

Bucky kept going until he was sure that they were safe. He slowed to a stop, bracing his hands on his knees in the safety of a dark alleyway. Steve jogged up beside him, leaning against the wall as he caught his breath.

“What,” Bucky said between gasps for air, “the hell was that?”

Steve wasn’t nearly as out of breath as Bucky was, but he was pushing his hand against the cut on his forehead. Blood was already leaking out from around his fingers. “They were beating up a homeless man.”

“I didn’t see him anywhere,” Bucky said, straightening up and trying to slow his breathing.

“He ran away when I jumped the first guy,” Steve said, frowning at the blood now running down his arm from the cut on his head.

“There were two of them! Against one of you!”

Steve shrugged. “It’s hard enough to be homeless on this kind of night. I wasn’t about to let that poor guy get hurt because those idiots were bored.”

Bucky stared at him as he finally got his breathing under control. “That one guy had a knife, Steve! He was going to stab you! And what about those other ones who showed up? What, were you going to take all of them on too?”

Steve shrugged again. “Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky said. He wanted to keep lecturing Steve, but the amount of blood now running down Steve’s face was alarming. “Okay, you’re gonna need to get that looked at.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said, too quickly. “It’ll stop in a minute. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

“That definitely will not stop bleeding in a minute,” Bucky said, stepping closer. “That’s going to need at least a few stitches.”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve tried again. “We should get back. Natasha and Clint are going to wonder where we are.”

“I’ll call them!” Bucky said desperately. “Come on, there’s a twenty-four hour walk-in clinic just a few blocks from here.”

“It’s fine, Bucky,” Steve said tiredly. He leaned back against the wall again.

Bucky was suddenly aware of how close together they were standing. He’d stepped closer to get a better look at Steve’s head, but now they were less than a foot apart. Steve was staring at him, his chest still heaving slightly from the exertion.

Bucky quickly stepped back and broke the eye contact with Steve, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “It’ll just take a few minutes. You might have a concussion, too, if you hit your head that hard –“

“Bucky, I don’t like hospitals,” Steve said, a little desperately. Bucky looked back up at him, noticing for the first time how white Steve’s face had gone. He looked pitiful, with his rain soaked hair and blood soaked shirt. “It’ll be fine, really.”

Bucky had quickly texted Natasha the situation, and he sighed in relief as his phone beeped again immediately.

_He wont go to the hospital even if he’s bleeding to death, don’t even try to convince him. meet us at my house asap_

Bucky sighed. “Natasha wants us to meet her at her house.”

Steve brightened up immediately. “Okay.”

Steve took off into the rain again, with Bucky hurrying behind him to catch up. Steve was still just pressing a hand to his head, and Bucky sighed again as he shrugged off his jacket. Bucky quickly pulled his shirt off and put his jacket back on over just his t-shirt.

“Stop walking so fast,” Bucky complained as he jogged up next to Steve. “Here, stop for a second.”

Steve finally stopped walking, and Bucky reached out and pulled Steve’s hand away from his head. “Here. It’s clean, I promise,” Bucky said as he folded up his shirt and pressed it against the cut on Steve’s head.

“Thanks,” Steve muttered. He was looking a little dazed, and Bucky wanted to get him to Natasha’s as soon as possible.

“Come on,” Bucky said gruffly as he started walking again. Steve followed him, still pressing Bucky’s shirt to his head.

Thankfully, Natasha didn’t live too far from town and they made it there in a few minutes. Bucky banged on her front door until it opened.

“Really, Steve? Again?” Natasha said as they walked into the house. Bucky spun around to stare at Steve.

“This has happened before?” Bucky asked incredulously. Steve winced.

“This happens all the time,” Clint said from behind Bucky. Natasha was busy pushing Steve onto the couch.

She pulled the shirt away from Steve’s head, her face unreadable as she stared at the cut that was still sending blood pouring down Steve’s face. “Wait here. Don’t try and get up.”

Natasha turned and ran down the stairs into the basement. Steve sat on the couch, staring determinedly at the floor. Clint was frowning.

“What happened?” he finally asked.

“Apparently they were beating a homeless guy up,” Bucky told him. “Which, don’t get me wrong, is awful. And I’m glad Steve stopped them.”

Steve looked up hopefully at that.

“But,” Bucky continued. “Steve was also going to take on the other six guys who showed up to help out their friends.”

Clint made a face. “I’m a little sad I missed it, actually.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she walked back into the living room. She was carrying a giant first aid kit. “So I would have more people to patch up? I don’t think so.”

Natasha glanced at Bucky as she sat down on the couch next to Steve. She frowned again.

“Bucky, your hand is bruised. Clint, go get him some ice for it.”

Clint obediently disappeared into the kitchen. Bucky looked at his hands in confusion. “No, it’s – oh.”

Sure enough, the knuckles on Bucky’s hand were already swelling up and changing colour. He hadn’t even noticed.

Clint returned with a bag of frozen peas, and the two of them sat on the other couch while Natasha worked on Steve. By the time she finished cleaning out the cut and disinfecting it, the bleeding had actually started to slow.

“See? Told you it would stop,” Steve said to Bucky. Bucky made a face at him.

“You all owe me a movie night now,” Clint told both of them, crossing his arms sternly.

Natasha ignored them all and finished bandaging Steve’s head. She sat back to admire her handiwork.

“I think the bleeding should stop completely soon, but I’m worried that you might have a concussion,” she said to Steve.

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“You always say that,” Natasha told him. “Here’s the deal. I don’t want you staying by yourself tonight, in case you start to feel less ‘fine’. So you can either stay here with me and Clint, or you can go home –“

“I’ll go home,” Steve said immediately.

Natasha gave him a look. “Or, as I was saying, you can go home and have Bucky stay with you until at least tomorrow morning.”

Steve frowned. “No, it’s okay, Natasha. Really. I don’t want to bother anyone – “

Bucky sighed and pushed himself off the couch. “Come on, Steve. I’ll crash on your couch and go home tomorrow.”

Steve still looked guilty, but Natasha shut her first aid kit with a final click.

“Great,” she said. “You know all the symptoms of a concussion?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh.

“And you’ll tell Bucky immediately if you start to experience any of them?”

“Yes, Natasha.”

She patted Steve’s hair patronizingly. “Good. Get going, then. I have to clean your blood off my couch before my family gets home.”

“I’m so sorry-“ Steve tried, before Natasha and Clint physically dragged him off the couch and pushed him and Bucky out the door.

“I’m really sorry about this, Bucky,” Steve said miserably as they walked down to Steve’s house. “I ruined everyone’s evening – “

“Steve, the only evening you ruined was that guy whose ribs you broke,” Bucky said. “My evening is fine.”

“You really don’t have to stay here all night,” Steve said as they walked down the path to his house. “I can call a cab to take you home, it’s no problem. I’m really fine.”

“Nope,” Bucky said cheerfully as he waited for Steve to unlock the door. “You’re stuck with me until tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll make you breakfast. I’m great at making omelettes.”

“I’m allergic to eggs,” Steve said as he opened the door.

Bucky shrugged and stepped past him into the warmth of the house. “I’ll make waffles or something then. I’m almost as good at making waffles as I am at making omelettes.”

Bucky walked straight into Steve’s living room and threw himself onto the couch. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and kicked off his shoes, making himself comfortable.

“You can take my bed,” Steve said as he followed Bucky into the living room. “I don’t have a spare room, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Bucky ordered as he burrowed deeper into the pillows on the couch. “And I’m not taking your bed. This couch is really comfortable, by the way.”

“At least let me get you a blanket,” Steve said desperately.

“Nope,” Bucky said, closing his eyes. “I’m good like this. Wake me up if you feel sick or dizzy or anything.”

Steve sighed again, but eventually he heard the sound of Steve climbing the stairs up to the second floor.

Bucky didn’t actually mean to fall asleep, but the couch _was_ very comfortable. Steve’s house felt safe in a way that his own house never had, and Bucky’s sleep was deep and restful.

He did wake up once during the night. The lights were off, and the house was dark and quiet. There was a heavy blanket over Bucky, and he sleepily rolled himself into it more snugly. He didn’t remember Steve giving it to him, but he was pretty sure this was the most comfortable he’d even been.

 

When Bucky woke up again, light was just shining in through the large windows. The windows were all shut, and Bucky couldn’t hear the sound of the ocean. The house was quiet and peaceful, and Bucky was still ridiculously comfortable.

The soft sound of footsteps on the stairs made Bucky finally turn his head. Steve was walking down the spiral stairs, his hair messy and his eyes sleepy. He was only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, and Bucky felt his heart thud uncomfortably.

“Morning,” Bucky mumbled from inside his cocoon of blankets. Steve stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared at him, a smile breaking out over his face. Bucky didn’t really know what he was smiling at.

“Hi,” Steve said. “Didn’t think you’d be awake.”

Bucky tugged his arm out of his blankets and checked his watch. “It’s so early, what the fuck?”

Steve laughed. “I always get up at this time. I like the morning.”

“Well, I don’t,” Bucky said, pulling the blanket back over his head. Bucky heard Steve move into the kitchen, but he was already starting to fall back asleep again.

“Wait,” Bucky said suddenly, trying to crawl out of his blanket prison. “How’s your head?”

“It’s fine,” Steve called from the kitchen. “Honestly.”

“Good,” Bucky called back. He laid on his face for a while longer before the smell of cooking food drifted through the house.

“Hey,” Bucky protested, sitting up on the couch. “I was supposed to make you breakfast. That was the deal.”

“Why would you make me breakfast?” Steve said from the kitchen. “You’re the one who stayed at my house to make sure I survived the night.”

“Yeah, but that was pretty much the best sleep I’ve had in my entire life,” Bucky said as he finally disentangled himself from his blanket.

“Really? On my couch?” Steve asked. He was standing over the stove, where he was expertly making pancakes.

“Yep,” Bucky said, leaning against the counter. “I would definitely pay you rent just for that couch. Not even the rest of your house. Just the couch.”

Steve laughed again.

They ate breakfast sitting at the table in the living room. Bucky sat with his back to the ocean so that he didn’t have to look at it. Of course, that also meant that he got to sit and stare at Steve until they finished eating. The morning sunlight was shining on Steve’s light hair, and he looked more at ease than Bucky had ever seen him.

It was just so easy, sitting in Steve’s house and eating breakfast with him. Bucky didn’t care that his hair was a mess and that he hadn’t showered yet. He didn’t care that he accidentally snorted orange juice out his nose when Steve made a joke, because it just made Steve laugh even harder.

Bucky figured that he should finally go home once they’d finished eating and cleaned up the dishes, but he really did not want to.


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky did end up going home, albeit a little reluctantly. He made Steve text him a few times throughout the day to make sure that his head was still okay, even though Steve assured him that it was.

Bucky saw Steve at least twice a week for the next month. Most of the time it was in a group with their mutual friends, but occasionally they’d go see a movie or just hang out at Steve’s house. They wouldn’t do all that much. Sometimes they’d play cards or an xbox game. Sometimes they’d just watch bad reality tv and make fun of the people on it. Occasionally, Bucky would read one of the many books Steve had scattered around the house while Steve painted by the window.

 It was all very platonic, of course. Despite Bucky’s wishes.

Other than that, Bucky’s life was going pretty well. He still had some nights where he sat in the hallway all night, listening to his siblings’ breathing, but sometimes he actually managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

There were still a few months until his job started, and so Bucky found himself doing more things around the house. He got used to getting the groceries for dinner and making breakfast for the kids, simply because he didn’t have anything else to do and wanted to help his mother out.

Unfortunately, that was how he found himself sitting on a school bus full of excitable children at 8:30 in the morning. Ethan and Rebecca’s class had a ‘beach-combing’ field trip, and Bucky’s mother hadn’t been able to get time off of work to chaperone it. It was her turn to chaperone, though, and she’d somehow convinced Bucky to take her place.

Bucky was now slumped in his seat next to one of the other chaperones, a woman in her 40s who had given him a withering look when they’d met and said nothing since. She was typing angrily on her phone, only pausing to occasionally yell at her son to shut up. It struck Bucky as a little unnecessary, considering all the kid was doing was trying to start a round of ‘wheels on the bus’, but whatever.

Bucky sat bolt upright again when the bus turned left instead of right at a set of lights.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said, leaning back over his seat and tapping one of the teachers on the shoulder. “I thought we were going to Wyatt Cove?”

The teacher looked up from the papers she had piled on her lap. “Oh, no. We had to change it to Sadie Bay. It’s not that much further, though.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, sliding back down in his seat. He turned to look straight ahead again, trying to breathe through the panic that was already tightening around his chest. He automatically pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Steve.

_Hey, are you at home right now?_

Steve’s reply came immediately.

_No I’m not back from my grandmother’s place until Sunday. Why?_

Bucky groaned and let his head fall back against the vinyl seat. The woman next to him gave him a disapproving look.

_Nothing really. Turns out the field trip is at Sadie bay instead. You could have come and had lunch with us_

Steve’s reply took a moment longer this time. Or maybe it just seemed that way, considering Bucky was focusing all of his attention on his phone to keep the panic from pressing down on his chest any further.

_Are you ok?_

Bucky stared at his phone.

_Yeah why?_

Steve’s reply was faster this time.

_I dunno, I just thought you didn’t like it there?_

Bucky wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He liked it there because Steve’s house was there, but he had trouble breathing any time he thought about the actual ocean itself.

He ended up not even having time to reply, because the bus turned down the street to the bay a moment later. It pulled to a stop at the top of the rocks, and the doors opened immediately. Bucky let all the kids file off in front of him, smiling weakly at Ethan and Rebecca as they bounced enthusiastically past.

Bucky helped the teachers carry a few chairs and blankets down the stairs to the beach. The teachers and chaperones were chatting enthusiastically about something, but Bucky couldn’t hear what they were saying. His heart was pounding too loudly in his ears.

The kids scattered over the beach the moment they got there, despite the chaperones and teachers yelling at them to stay close. Bucky frantically tried to keep an eye on Ethan and Rebecca, although their dislike of swimming kept them far from the water.

It was a cold and windy day, and most of the children ended up huddling around the teachers in blankets. Bucky stared enviously up at Steve’s house, perched on the rocks overlooking the bay. Maybe he could just ditch and sneak up the stairs to the house. Even if Steve wasn’t there, Bucky knew where he kept the key.

Bucky also knew that the teachers would be unbelievably pissed off if Bucky snuck away, though. He had responsibilities here.

He spent the next hour chasing kids away from the water when they got too close. They were supposed to be searching the beach for special shells or something. Bucky really spent most of the time trying to keep the nausea and pressure on his chest away. Every time a particularly loud wave crashed on the shore he flinched, and the dizziness in his head grew worse. His arms and legs were starting to feel weak by then, which wasn’t surprising considering how hard his heart was pounding.

By the time the kids were all settled on blankets for lunch, Bucky had to sit down on a rock nearby and put his head in his hands. He felt like shit.

“Are you all right?” one of the teachers asked him.

Bucky was saved from having to reply.

“Bucky!” Ethan shouted at the same time. He was sitting in a group of children on one of the blankets.

“What?” Bucky called back.

“Rebecca ate chocolate!”

“Fuck,” Bucky said, earning himself another glare from the other chaperone. He pushed his own discomfort aside and ran over to where Rebecca was sitting.

“She’s allergic?” one of the teachers asked as Bucky knelt down beside her. Rebecca threw herself into his arms, crying loudly.

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he tightened his arms around her. “It’s not anaphylaxis, though. She just gets hives and a headache.”

Sure enough, Rebecca’s face was blotchy and red and her arms were covered in the beginning of hives.

“Lily gave me one of her cookies,” Rebecca told him through her tears. “I didn’t know it had chocolate!”

Lily was sitting next to her, staring worriedly.

“It’s okay,” Bucky told her reassuringly. “Remember the last time this happened? When you ate that slice of Ethan’s birthday cake?”

“Yes…”

“Well, that only lasted for an hour then, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rebecca said tearfully. She stayed curled in his arms as the teacher spoke to Bucky.

“Do you want to just take her home?” the teacher asked. “If it’s not life-threatening, of course. I don’t want to keep her here in the cold if she’s not feeling well. We can call you a cab or get someone to pick you up.”

“That’s okay,” Bucky told her, trying to disguise his relief at having an excuse to leave. “Our house isn’t that far from here. We can just walk. The fresh air will do her some good.”

After Bucky signed all the papers allowing him to take a child from a field trip, he and Rebecca walked home. Rebecca was already feeling better, and she was excitedly telling him about the otter she’d seen in the ocean while they walked.

Bucky too felt better the further they got from the ocean. His reaction to it still bothered him though, even after he was safely back in his own house.

He got Rebecca set up on the couch with a blanket and a movie before he managed to check his phone. He had three new text messages from Steve.

_Bucky?_

_are you okay?_

_Okay I’m probably just being paranoid so just ignore me_

Bucky smiled and texted him back, assuring him that he was fine.

He wasn’t, though. He couldn’t keep having a panic attack every time he went near the ocean. His town was on the fucking ocean, for god’s sake. It was pretty fucking inevitable that he’d have to encounter it many times in the near future. He couldn’t keep going on like this.

He needed to do something about it.

Bucky sat up most of the night researching. The next day, after his family had all left for school and work, Bucky found himself walking determinedly back down to Sadie Bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends, this chapter is kind of short and I am sorry for that! I will post the next one very soon to make up for it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! There's NSFW sexual content in this chapter, so just be aware of that! If you aren't comfortable with that kind of thing, you can probably just skim over it or skip it entirely.

Sure enough, his heart started to pound the closer he got to the water. By the time he turned down the street to Sadie Bay, his lungs were tight and his legs felt weak. His heart was pounding like he’d just ran a marathon.

He didn’t turn back. He’d make himself do this even if it killed him. He was twenty-one years old, not a child. People his age didn’t get scared of something ridiculous like this. It was completely irrational, and Bucky did not consider himself an irrational person.

Bucky had to hold onto the handrail as he walked down the stairs to the beach. His head was spinning.

He paused for a moment once he’d crossed the sand and was almost to the water. Maybe this would just be enough. Maybe he could just stand here until his body burned itself out. His heart couldn’t keep pounding like this forever, could it? Eventually he’d calm down. Maybe he could just stay here.

Bucky had promised himself that he was going to fix this today, once and for all. He was a good swimmer. The water here wasn’t even that deep. There was nothing to be afraid of.

He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in just his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He shivered as the cold wind hit his bare skin and wrapped around his body. It was cloudy again today, and the water was nearly black. The beach was completely empty, probably because of how unbelievably cold it was.

Bucky dropped his jacket on top of his shoes. He checked to make sure that his phone and wallet were securely tucked into his jacket pocket before he stood up again and took another step towards the water.

The sand was cool against his feet, but that was nothing compared to the pain of the first wave. It just above his ankles, and Bucky nearly cried out in pain. The pain actually took away some of the fear that was wrapping itself around his brain, and forced him to take a breath.

Bucky steeled himself against the cold. He could do this. He’d just go in, dive under, and then go back to the beach. There was nothing to be afraid of. He’d done this hundreds of times. It would be fine. There was no one here to worry about but himself.

No matter how many times he told himself that, though, the fear still raced through his body. His lungs were still tight, and his stomach was still churning.

Bucky pushed himself further. The water reached his knees, and then his waist as he kept walking.

His legs had gone comfortably numb by then, and it was taking a lot of his strength to stay upright against the waves that crashed against him. Bucky thought it was working, though. He was okay. He wasn’t dying of the fear. He’d be fine.

Bucky took another step, and the next wave reached his chest. Bucky winced at the sharp pain of the water, but took a deep breath and dove under.

The shock of the cold water drove the breath from his lungs. Bucky kicked up toward the surface again, and gasped for breath as his head broke the surface.

It felt amazing.

Bucky swam out just a little bit further before he decided to turn back. He knew better than to push his luck. If he went out any further, there was a chance he could get caught in the currents, and he definitely didn’t want that.

Bucky ducked back under the water to turn back towards shore. It wasn’t that far.

After his next kick, he felt the distinct sharp pain of muscle cramps race up his legs.

Bucky kicked frantically for the surface, but his legs were already stiffening. He didn’t get anywhere, and the cold was sinking into his bones. No matter how much he willed his legs to move, his muscles refused to respond.

Bucky’s hands broke the surface as he struggled. He managed to get one breath in by using his arms as much as he could, but another wave crashed over his head and pushed him down again.

The pain starting in Bucky’s lungs was all too familiar. He struggled against the water as best he could, trying to regain some control over his muscles.

It wasn’t working.

His vision was darkening when he felt hands wrap around his shoulders.

Bucky’s head broke the surface and he gasped for air. He struggled to get his feet underneath him as he was dragged forcibly through the water, towards shore.

“What the fuck,” Steve was shouting. Bucky blinked up at him as he tried to steady his legs underneath him in the shallower water. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you fucking crazy?”

“Steve – “ Bucky tried, but a fit of coughing cut off the rest of his sentence.

“Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?” Steve yelled at him, his fists still clenched in Bucky’s shirt. His face was white, and even his lips were turning blue in the cold. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Bucky’s head was spinning, and his thoughts were still racing from the adrenaline and the fear. His heart was pounding again, but his legs were still painful and weak.

Bucky’s arms were still working, though, which was how he was able to reach out and grab Steve’s hair, pulling his face roughly towards Bucky’s.

Their lips met just as another wave rushed around them. Bucky’s body was still cold and in shock, but he felt that kiss spread all the way through each of his limbs. Steve was warm against him, and the chill of the water seemed to melt away.

Steve, for his part, kissed back. Bucky wasn’t actually expecting the ferocity with which Steve pressed against him, his hands pulling Bucky closer.

The shock hit him again when Steve suddenly pushed him back a moment later. Bucky stumbled back in the water and nearly fell again. Steve grabbed his shoulders again and pulled him back to his feet, his eyes wide.

“Sorry – “ Bucky said, nearly limp in Steve’s grasp.

Steve didn’t say anything, but he turned and started for shore again, dragging Bucky with him.

Bucky managed to reach down and grab his jacket as Steve pulled him onto the beach, but only barely. Steve was pulling him towards the stairs that led up to his house so quickly that Bucky could barely walk. His legs were still cold and painful.

Steve very nearly carried Bucky up the stairs. Bucky tried to protest, but his lungs weren’t really cooperating either.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally managed to say when they reached Steve’s porch. Steve ignored him in favour of pushing the door to his house open with his elbow, both his arms still wrapped around Bucky.

Steve dragged him through his house, apparently not caring that they were both getting salt water all over the nice floors. Bucky expected Steve to let him go once they were safely inside, but Steve pulled him right up the spiral stairs and onto the second floor.

Bucky had never been up here, but he had no time to look around. Steve kicked another door open with his foot before pulling Bucky inside.

Steve pushed Bucky into the shower stall. Bucky’s legs were still stiff and painful, and he stumbled. Steve grabbed him again before he could fall into the wall, helping Bucky sink down so that he was sitting on the floor of the shower. The gentleness of Steve’s movements was at odds with the rage that Steve was currently projecting. Bucky didn’t understand it.

Bucky winced as Steve turned the shower on and the first spray of water hit his face. The water turned warm almost immediately, and Bucky gasped as it hit his freezing limbs.

Steve stood in the door of the shower, his hands braced on either side of the door. His face was still white, but he was glaring daggers at Bucky.

“What the fuck were you doing?” he shouted again. “Were you _trying_ to kill yourself?”

“No!” Bucky protested, as strongly as he could.

“Then what the hell was that? You almost died, Bucky!”

“I know!” Bucky yelled back. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to, I just… my legs cramped, I would have been fine otherwise.”

Steve ran his hands through his damp hair, staring at Bucky in disbelief.

“That’s because the water’s freezing, Bucky! You can’t go out there this time of year!”

Bucky let his head fall back against the wall of the shower, the warm water finally soothing some of the pain in his legs and hands.

“I thought I’d be fine,” Bucky said miserably. “I just… I didn’t want to be scared anymore, and I thought this would work.”

“Well, you clearly thought wrong,” Steve snapped.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky said again. He wanted to explain his rationale to Steve, but his thoughts were all over the place.

Steve gritted his teeth, still staring at Bucky. “Do you know how scared I was?”

“No,” Bucky said truthfully.

Steve shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Are you mad because you had to pull me out of the water again, or are you mad because I kissed you?” Bucky asked finally, his voice quieter than before.

Steve lifted his head up again, a frown passing across his face. “What? Bucky, no, I – neither. I just don’t understand – “

“I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, I swear,” Bucky said. Steve stared at him doubtfully. “I’ll explain later.”

“Why –“ Steve tried, but Bucky stumbled back to his feet a moment later. He grabbed Steve by the collar of his damp shirt and pulled him into the shower. Bucky let go of his shirt with one hand to grab Steve’s hair again and press his mouth against his.

 If Bucky had any question of whether or not Steve wanted this, he got his answer a second later. Steve slammed him back against the shower wall, kissing Bucky back with just as much force.

Bucky had already started to warm up from the heat of the shower, but Steve’s mouth against his sent shocks of warmth throughout his entire body. It was like all of his nerves came back to life at once. Bucky automatically pressed his body against Steve’s as forcefully as he could, but Steve still had him pinned back against the shower wall.

Bucky belated realized that both of them were still nearly fully dressed. He solved that pulling his own t-shirt over his head and grabbing the hem of Steve’s.

Steve pulled back from Bucky’s mouth to pull his own shirt over his head, but he made up for the lack of contact by sliding his hand down Bucky’s sweatpants.

“Fuck,” Bucky gasped out as Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s dick. Steve didn’t hesitate, pulling Bucky’s sweatpants and boxers down while his other hand worked.

Once his clothes were off, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of Steve. Steve made a noise of protest and tried to pull him back up, but Bucky ignored him and got to work on undoing Steve’s belt. His hands had thankfully fully thawed by this point, and he undid it easily.

“Bucky,” Steve said as Bucky pulled his jeans down. “Bucky, wait.”

Bucky paused, staring at him with a grin on his face.

Steve was already hard, which kind of took away from the serious effect he was trying to give off. “Bucky, are you sure? You aren’t just doing this because you think you owe me?”

“Steve,” Bucky said before putting his mouth around the head of Steve’s dick. Steve inhaled sharply, and Bucky took his mouth away to look up at him again. “I’m doing this because I want to.”

Steve stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. “Okay.”

Bucky grinned at him and went back to work.

It didn’t take long for Steve to finish. Bucky knew what he was doing, and when Steve came he had to brace his hands on either side of the shower to hold himself up.

“Fuck,” Steve said again after he got his breath back. “That was…”

“You better say ‘good’” Bucky said as he got back to his feet, stretching out his legs. “Because I mean, it didn’t really last that long.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, but he was smiling. “It’s been a while.”

Bucky smirked as he brushed his water-soaked hair out of his eyes. “Nah, that’s no excuse.”

“Really?” Steve said innocently before pushing Bucky back under the showerhead. Bucky stumbled back against the shower wall as Steve kissed his way down Bucky’s chest.

“Yes,” Bucky said, before Steve’s mouth was suddenly around his dick and everything was going a little blurry.

Between the hot water running down Bucky’s back and the warmth of Steve’s mouth, Bucky didn’t last that long either. When Bucky finished too and his vision had cleared, Steve was grinning triumphantly at him.

“Shut up,” Bucky said before Steve could say anything. Steve laughed, and Bucky pulled him back to his feet so he could keep him quiet with another kiss.

They stayed in the shower until the water started to get cold, making out lazily. Steve got out first, quickly drying himself off and disappearing down the hallway. Bucky hung back, knowing that there was definitely going to be a confrontation after this.

By the time he turned the water off and got out of the shower, Steve had left him both a towel and a set of dry clothes on the counter. Bucky’s damp clothes were gone.

After Bucky dried off and got changed, he hesitantly went back out into the hallway and down the stairs.

Steve was standing in the kitchen, pouring water from a kettle into two mugs.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he walked in, striving for casualness.

“Sit,” Steve ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Bucky reluctantly backed out of the kitchen again.

Bucky sat on the couch while he waited, comfortable in the large hoodie and sweatpants Steve had given him. He leaned back against the cushions, still trying to look casual.

Steve appeared a moment later. He handed Bucky one of the mugs filled with hot chocolate and sat the other down the table.

“Thanks,” Bucky said, but Steve was already moving across the room again. He grabbed one of the blankets that were piled in an armchair and threw it at Bucky. It ended up half over Bucky’s head, and he pushed it off impatiently.

“I’m fine, Steve,” Bucky said, although he sipped at his hot chocolate. “I’m a little overheated, actually.”

“Well, I’m still cold,” Steve said as he dropped down onto the couch across from Bucky. Bucky felt a flash of guilt.

“Sorry.”

Steve sighed, picking up his own mug. He stared Bucky down. “So, are you going to tell me what the hell you were doing now?”

Bucky slumped down on the couch, staring into his hot chocolate.

“Okay,” he said finally. “You know how I’ve been having, uh, problems whenever I have to go near the ocean? Or Sadie Bay in particular?”

“Yes.”

“Um, well, I didn’t… I didn’t want that to happen anymore. So I looked up some stuff on the internet and there’s this thing called exposure therapy? Where you kind of confront the thing that’s scaring you, and then wait it out until you extinguish that fear response. And then apparently that trigger goes away forever.”

Steve was staring at him. “That doesn’t sound right at all.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, I skipped a few steps. I needed to speed it up.”

Steve grabbed his laptop off the coffee table and opened it, typing quickly.

Bucky groaned. “Don’t look it up!”

Steve ignored him and clicked a few things on his keyboard.

He looked up at Bucky again, frowning. “It says here, right at the top, ‘do not attempt this without the help of a licenced medical doctor or therapist.’ I’m pretty sure there was no licenced medical doctor or therapist on that beach, Bucky.”

“I know,” Bucky said impatiently.

“And you’re supposed to do all these steps, first,” Steve said, still reading. “Before you try the actual thing. Oh, also, look at this. You’re only supposed to do it in a situation where there is absolutely no danger.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be any!”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. “You almost drowned, Bucky! Again!”

“Only because my muscles cramped!”

“Because the water’s too cold this time of year!”

Bucky scowled. “I’ve gone swimming lots of times in the fall when I was younger. Never had a problem before.”

Steve stared at Bucky incredulously over the top of his laptop. “Yeah, well, this time you clearly did! If I hadn’t been here-“

“Why are you here?” Bucky interrupted. “I thought you were at your grandmother’s house.”

“I was supposed to be. I have an essay to do, I came back early to work on it. I’d just walked in when I saw you down on the beach.”

“Well, everything worked out fine,” Bucky said without thinking. Even he knew how stupid that sounded.

Steve put his laptop back on the coffee table. “Bucky, you can’t do this kind of shit on your own. Why didn’t you just get an actual therapist? Who’s actually trained to help in situations like these?”

Bucky laughed sharply. “How? That kind of thing costs money, Steve. I live in my parents’ house, and I don’t have a job. I won’t have a job until January. It’s not covered under our health insurance. You have to pay for it out of pocket.”

Steve was frowning now. “Would they pay for it? Your parents? If you asked?”

Bucky laughed again. “Steve, you’ve met my dad. You really think he’d pay for me to sit in a room and talk to someone for an hour a week?”

“Well- “

“It’s not an option, Steve,” Bucky said. He suddenly felt very tired again. “Believe me, I’d have jumped on it if it was. But it’s not, and I can’t live like this. I can’t walk around like this all day. I needed to do something.”

“Bucky…” Steve said slowly. “Look, we can figure something out, okay?”

“You don’t…” Bucky said, his throat feeling tight. “Steve, you don’t have to help me with this. Believe me, I know what a mess I am right now. This is my shit that I have to deal with –“

Steve sighed in frustration and dropped his head back into his hands. “Bucky, I want to help. I don’t know how to make this clearer to you than I already have. I care about you, okay? I want you to be happier. And safe. And not drowning in the ocean outside of my house.”

Bucky finally looked up at him. “Sorry you had to come pull me out again.”

Steve sighed and stood up, coming to sit next to Bucky on the couch. “I was only pissed because I was scared for you. You know that, right? I’m not actually mad.”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled. He stared at his hands.

Steve leaned over and gently turned Bucky’s jaw so that they were looking at each other. “It’ll work out, Bucky. We’ll figure something out.”

Bucky stared at him. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I just…” Bucky tried again. “I don’t see what you get out of this. All I see is you getting saddled with me and my fucking issues.”

“Well, you did just suck my dick,” Steve said with a completely straight face.

 Bucky stared at him for a long moment before starting to laugh. Steve’s face finally broke into a smile too.

“I’m serious,” Bucky protested when he managed to stop laughing. He leaned back against the couch so he could look at Steve properly. “I don’t understand you.”

Steve sighed again. “Bucky, you… I like spending time with you. I’m happy when I’m with you, and I haven’t really been happy in a long time. I don’t know how to explain it more simply than that. You make me laugh, and you’re smart, and you’re easy to talk to. Before I met you, I was just spending every day in this house by myself. It was so quiet, all the fucking time, and all I thought about every single day was how lonely I was. And then I met you, and things were just… different. Better. I don’t really know what else you want me to say, Bucky. I like you, I like having you here. I don’t like seeing you in pain or unhappy. That’s why I’m offering to help, in any way I can.”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment. “Fucking hell, Steve.”

Steve laughed again. “What?”

“That’s,” Bucky said, flustered. He sat up on the couch and pushed himself onto his knees, so he was kneeling in front of Steve. “I can’t beat that. That’s pretty much the nicest thing anyone’s ever said. Ever. Especially to me.”

Steve smiled again. “I was trying – “

“I know,” Bucky said as he pushed Steve back on the couch and climbed carefully on top of him. “Gotta show you my appreciation somehow, though.”

“You – “ Steve tried, before Bucky cut him off with another kiss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't try exposure therapy at home, kids. Also, a reminder that I'm at cameronwolfe.tumblr.com if you want to come say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

After that, Bucky started staying at Steve’s house a few nights a week. If he couldn’t make it over there for the night, he’d at least try to go by during the day.

He’d started taking the kids to and from school to help his mother out. He’d usually stay home with them after school until his mom got home, and then he’d help her make dinner. He’d leave for Steve’s house around seven, which coincidentally is about when his dad got home from work. This meant that Bucky now only saw his dad on weekends, which was just fine with both of them.

All together, Bucky was having a pretty good few weeks. He’d been down to the bank a few times to talk to his future boss, and they’d shown him around and given him a list of programs and information he would need to know by the time he started work. He happily learned them all in one evening, and he was actually pretty excited to start working.

He was spending as much time with Steve as he wanted, he still got to hang out with his siblings, and he even had time left over to go to Natasha’s house at least once a week.

The trouble started a few weeks later.

The first sign of it was when Bucky was leaving for Steve’s house on a Saturday night. That meant his father was home, which normally wasn’t a problem. As long as Bucky was quiet coming home, his father didn’t really care what he was doing out of the house.

“Bucky!” George called as Bucky walked by the living room on his way to the door.

Bucky took a few steps backward so he was standing in the doorway. “Yeah?”

His parents were sitting on the couch watching the news, while his siblings were all sprawled on the floor playing with Lego. His father was watching him with a frown.

“Is that your sweater?” George asked. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Bucky looked down at himself and winced slightly. The sweater in question was, in fact, not his. He must have grabbed one of Steve’s by accident the last time he was at his house.

“Oh,” Bucky said awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. It’s new.”

George narrowed his eyes. “It’s too big on you.”

Bucky shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s comfy, though.”

“It’ll shrink in the dryer,” his mother said. “Bucky, you better get going.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, shooting her a grateful look. “See you later.”

He could feel his father watching him through the window as he hurried out of the house and down the street. He’d have to be more careful in the future, because Bucky was really not a very good liar.

 

Bucky wasn’t quite careful enough. Steve came along with him to pick up his siblings from school one afternoon, and then they refused to let Steve leave again. This lead to Grace pulling every board game they owned out of the cupboard and throwing them all over the floor until she found the one she wanted. They settled on Snakes and Ladders, although Rebecca sat loftily on the couch and declared that she was too old for board games. Steve, Bucky, Ethan, and Grace sat on the living room floor and played four rounds of it.

George came home early that day, for some reason. Bucky didn’t even hear the car pull into the driveway or the door open, but suddenly his father was standing in the living room staring at them. Bucky belatedly realized that he and Steve were sitting far too close together, but it was too late to move without it being painfully obvious. Platonic friends didn’t sit pressed up against each other on the living room floor.

“Dad!” Grace said happily, jumping up and running over to him. George lifted her into the air easily and kissed her cheek.

“Board games?” he asked, staring at Bucky coldly.

“Bucky and Steve said we could,” Ethan said cheerfully. “We already did our homework, so it’s fine.”

“Well, I’m glad that you did your homework,” George said, setting Grace back down and going over to ruffle Rebecca’s hair. “And who’s this?”

“This is Steve,” Bucky said warily. He glanced over at Steve, only to find an equally cold look on Steve’s face. He nudged Steve with his knee desperately.

“Hi,” Steve said stiffly. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Bucky was shooting him a frantic look.

“I remember you,” George said coldly. “You were the one who brought Bucky home drunk.”

“Bucky was drunk?” Ethan said delightedly. Bucky gently shoved him, and Ethan shrieked.

“That was a while ago,” Bucky said hurriedly. “Steve was just playing Snakes and Ladders with us, and then he’s leaving. Right, Steve?”

Steve turned to look at him, but Grace was already frowning.

“You said Steve could stay for dinner!” she protested.

“Nope, he’s got to go home,” Bucky said tightly.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said slowly. “I’ve got things to do.”

George stared at them before finally walking out of the room and into the kitchen. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring the looks Steve was giving him.

Bucky very nearly pushed Steve out the door in his haste to get him to leave once the game was over. He locked the door firmly behind him and went back into the living room to clean up the mess of board games.

He checked his phone later to find no messages from Steve, which was unusual in itself. Cringing, Bucky hurriedly sent him a text.

_Im sorry im sorry im sorry im so sorry that was so rude of me im sorry_

Steve’s reply came back instantly.

_Its fine, but why? You know I don’t like your dad but I wasn’t going to punch him in the face or anything. I was being polite_

Bucky groaned and let his face fall into his pillow before rolling over and texting him back.

_No you didn’t do anything wrong, I should have mentioned this to you earlier but my dad can’t find out about us ok_

Bucky clenched his teeth as he waited for Steve’s response.

_Why not_

Bucky sent the next text as quickly as he could.

_He’ll be so pissed off, its just better this way, im sorry im sorry_

Steve’s next text took a while to show up, and Bucky was pretty sure he stopped breathing while he waited.

_Okay_

Bucky didn’t deserve someone like Steve, he really didn’t.

 

Sure enough, his father brought it up again. It was Sunday, which meant that they all had to eat dinner at the table together.

“How’s Natasha been?” George asked, cutting off Grace’s story about a rock she’d found in the garden earlier. “I haven’t seen her around lately.”

“She’s good,” Bucky said cautiously, poking at his salad with his fork. “She got a job at the martial arts center downtown, she’s working there until her master’s program starts.”

“That’s great,” Bucky’s mother said encouragingly.

“She still dating that guy? The one she cheated on you with?” George asked, staring intently at Bucky.

“George,” Winifred said.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “She didn’t cheat on me, Dad. We broke up, and then she started dating Clint. And yeah, she’s still dating him.”

“You ever think about trying to get her back?”

“No,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth. “She’s happy with Clint. We’re all friends. It’s fine.”

“Well I think – “

“I don’t really care what you think,” Bucky said impulsively. That earned him a slap to the side of his head so hard that he nearly fell off his chair.

“George!” Winifred snapped. “Both of you, stop it. Right now.”

Bucky slowly sat back up, glaring at the table. Ethan, Rebecca, and Grace had fallen silent and were sitting completely still. George went back to eating his salad, scowling.

Winifred changed the conversation to something harmless, and the rest of dinner passed without incident. Bucky escaped to his room after helping with dishes, and spent the rest of the evening messaging Steve. He didn’t tell him what happened, of course. He never did.

 

Bucky tried to stay out of the house that week as much as he could. He missed his siblings, though, and he still picked them up from school every day. He’d managed to bribe Ethan and Rebecca with the promise of board games or video games if they did their homework, and that was how they spent most of their afternoons now.

One particularly long game of Monopoly was the reason that Bucky was still at home one night. Winifred was out at her book club, and wouldn’t be home for a few hours at least. George had locked himself in his study an hour earlier, and they hadn’t been disturbed since.

Ethan and Rebecca were arguing over a property, and Grace was happily piling the little houses up into towers on the carpet. Bucky was trying to figure out if he had enough money to buy Boardwalk.

 The argument turned into a shoving match, and soon Ethan and Rebecca were chasing each other around the room shouting.

“Guys, no, come on,” Bucky said, exasperated. Neither of them listened, and Rebecca shrieked as Ethan pushed her into the tall glass vase that stood next to the tv. She stumbled forward again, taking the vase with her. It crashed to the ground and broke into hundreds of pieces, despite the floor being carpet. Both of them froze, their eyes wide.

“Oooooh,” Grace said. Bucky groaned and got to his feet.

“Sorry,” both Ethan and Rebecca said at the same time.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said tiredly. “Come on, I’ve got to get this cleaned up before either of you two get glass in your feet.”

He lifted Grace up and dropped her safely on the couch before he helped the twins step over the disaster zone. “Couch,” he ordered. They scrambled over to it obediently.

Bucky was surveying the floor when he heard the study door fly open. Wincing, Bucky turned around to see George storm into the living room.

“What the hell?” he shouted. “What happened?”

“I knocked the vase over,” Ethan said quickly.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said again. “I’ll pick the glass up, vacuum – “

“It’s fine?” George repeated. “Do you know how much that vase cost?”

“No,” Bucky replied honestly. “But it was an accident, and – “

“An accident? You were supposed to be watching them, Bucky.”

“It was my fault!” Rebecca insisted. George ignored her.

“I wasn’t, actually,” Bucky said, even though he knew better than to talk back. “They’re not my kids, they’re yours. Your responsibility.”

George eyes flashed with anger. “You’re their older brother. You need to learn responsibility –“

“I am responsible!” Bucky nearly shouted. “This was just a stupid accident – “

“If you were here more often, you’d know better than to let them roughhouse like that!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“You have responsibilities, Bucky. Don’t think I don’t know where you go at night. You’ve off with that boy when you should be here at home –“

“Steve doesn’t have anything to do with this!”

“Oh, really? Because you sure as hell were better before he showed up. I don’t even want to know what kind of disgusting shit you get up to with him – “

“You already know,” Bucky said. This was dangerous territory, he knew, but he was tired of this and he was tired of sneaking around his own house like a fucking criminal. “You know exactly what I’m doing with him.”

George clenched his fists. “Don’t do this, Bucky.”

“Don’t do what? I’m only telling you what you already know,” Bucky snarled back at him, his heart pounding in his chest. “Want to know what we were doing last night? Well, he was on his knees and I was against the wall and – “

The punch was so fast that Bucky didn’t even see it coming. It hit hard enough that Bucky fell backward, which, in itself, would not have been that bad. But he’d been standing in front of the fireplace, and the back of his head cracked against the sharp stone edge. Bucky’s vision blurred, everything turning to a haze of grey and black. He’d only hit his head, but the pain was strong enough to take all of his breath away.

Bucky gasped for air as he tried to get back to his feet, but he couldn’t see anything and suddenly there was weight on his ribs again, and it hurt almost as much as his head. It took him a minute to realize that George was kicking him, not that it mattered. Bucky couldn’t do anything about it, just wait for it to stop. It was hard enough that he could feel the distinctive crack of ribs breaking, even through the roaring in his head.

He thought George was shouting something, but he couldn’t be sure. He was suddenly on his feet again, even though he wasn’t sure how because he certainly hadn’t stood up. Then there was more pain in his face and he was back on the floor again.

Bucky tried to fight back, he really did. He kicked out as best he could, and heard a grunt as his foot connected. His ankle was twisted a moment later, and the pop of tendons was enough for Bucky to pull his legs back in again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky tried to gasp out, but he couldn’t quite get enough air into his lungs. “Sorry, sorry, sorry- “

Something hit his head again, and everything went grey. Even sounds faded this time, and the pain stopped too. Bucky was floating, everything soft and indistinct.

He wasn’t sure how long that lasted, but when his vision cleared again he realized he was being pulled to his feet by his shirt. George had Bucky’s face pulled close to his, and was still shouting.

“You get out of this fucking house, you hear me? I don’t want to see your face here again, you piece of shit. Got it?”

“Yes,” Bucky tried to say, but for some reason there was blood in his mouth and it was making it hard to talk.

He must have gotten the message across, because George dropped him again and Bucky fell back to the floor. Something crunched underneath him, which was weird because Bucky didn’t feel anything.

He lay there for a moment, sucking as much air into his lungs as he could before he rolled over. Getting to his feet was too difficult, so Bucky crawled his way across the room to the hallway. He used the shoe rack next to the door to climb to his feet, even though one of his legs wasn’t working right and kept buckling underneath him.

He tried to open the doorknob, but his hand slipped on it and he nearly fell again. Somehow he got the door open and stumbled out into the night air, gasping for it desperately.

Bucky started walking. It was annoyingly difficult, mostly because he couldn’t really see anything and the world kept shifting around. Most of the houses in his neighbourhood had fences, which was nice because he could lean on them as he walked. He absent-mindedly noticed that he’d smeared blood along one of them, which was unfortunate but couldn’t be helped.

It was quiet at this time of night. It was a relief. Bucky figured that people probably saw him at some point, but if anyone made any attempts to talk to him he didn’t hear it. He tried to stop for a break at one point, but the world swam even more when he tried to sit down. Bucky knew that there was no way he’d get back up if he stopped, and so he kept walking. Or crawling. Whatever it was he was doing. It was a little hard to tell.

Bucky normally hated the sound of the ocean, but when he heard the first wave crash against the rocks it was the greatest sound he’d ever heard. He started crying as the sound of the waves grew stronger, which was embarrassing but he couldn’t seem to stop.

This street didn’t have any fences, which was annoying. That meant that Bucky kept falling, which hurt more and more every time it happened but it couldn’t be avoided.

All of the lights in Steve’s house were off by the time that Bucky stumbled his way down the driveway. Bucky realized that it was actually probably pretty late at night, at this point. Steve was probably asleep. He probably didn’t want to be woken up. Should he wake Steve up? He didn’t want to bother him. At the same time, Steve would probably be angrier when he woke up and found Bucky dead in his driveway. He’d probably rather be woken up.

Bucky leaned against Steve’s front door, his breathing weird and wet-sounding. He banged his fist again the door, and then winced as pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder. When had he hurt his hand? He had no idea.

“Steve!” he yelled as best he could. It wasn’t very loud, considering it was hard enough to breathe in and out. He slammed his fist on the door again, ignoring the pain.

Bucky’s eyes were mostly closed, but he could see the light flick on upstairs. He could hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs inside, and the sound of him running to the door.

Steve opened the door, which Bucky had been learning on. Bucky immediately fell forward, although Steve caught him just before he hit the floor.

“Bucky?” Steve was saying. “What the fuck, Bucky, oh my god, what the hell.”

“Steve,” Bucky said sleepily. He smiled a little. Steve was here. He was safe now. Steve’s house was very warm, and Steve’s hands were gentle. He was safe now. Safe.

“Bucky, what happened? Oh my god,” Steve said. Bucky forced his eyes open, so he could look at Steve’s face. Steve looked worried and his face was too pale, but his hair was messy and it was cute. Steve was so nice to look at, had Bucky ever told him that? He should tell him that. Steve should know that.

Steve had his cell phone in his hand, suddenly, and he was typing something into it.

“I’m gonna call the ambulance, Bucky, it’s going to be fine – “

“No,” Bucky said frantically, trying to sit up. Pain shot through his back when he tried, and Bucky screamed. Steve pushed him back down, ignoring Bucky’s attempts to grab the phone out of Steve’s hands.

Steve was yelling at someone on the other end of the phone, now. That was weird, but Bucky didn’t care. The lights above Steve’s head were too bright, and it was annoying him. He shut his eyes, grateful at the relief.

“Bucky, no, wake up,” Steve said. He shook him gently, and Bucky moaned. “You have to stay awake.”

“Ugh,” Bucky said, frowning slightly. He opened his eyes, though. Steve was hitting more buttons on his phone again, while still trying to hold Bucky up with his other arm.

Steve was yelling into the phone again. “No, no, they said there’s an accident on the highway and all the ambulances are there! I already tried that! Okay, okay, how long will that take you? No, you have to be faster. It’s really bad, Nat, it’s really bad, I can’t keep him awake… okay, okay. Hurry.”

Steve dropped his phone again. “It’s okay, Bucky, Natasha and Clint are on their way. They’re going to help, okay?”

Bucky tried to smile at him again. Steve looked so scared. Bucky hated it when Steve looked upset. “Okay.”

“Bucky, what happened, how did this… I don’t…” Steve was talking, but Bucky was content to just watch him. Talking was too much work, and he couldn’t really figure out how to put words together to form a sentence.

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted. “Steve.”

“What?” Steve said. He was running his hands over Bucky’s ribs gently, but it still hurt a little.

“Love you.”

Steve froze and looked back up at Bucky. Bucky smiled at him sleepily.

“Bucky, stop, you’re not dying, you’re going to be fine,” Steve said frantically, running his hands over the back of Bucky’s head now.

“Nah,” Bucky said.

“Yes,” Steve insisted, because he was stubborn as all hell. “You must have walked all the way over here, right? Dying people can’t do that.”

That was dumb, and Bucky tried to tell him that, but that sentence was too complicated. “Just wanted to see you.”

Steve looked like he was crying. That was wrong. Steve didn’t cry a lot. “Stop saying shit like that, Bucky. Stop.”

Bucky took another breath in, but it caught in his throat. “’Kay,” he said, and then coughed. The cough sent pain shooting through his chest again, and that made the weird sensation in his head flare. Bucky cried out, even though he tried not to.

“Shit,” Steve said again. He was trying to hold Bucky’s head off the floor, which was annoying because all Bucky wanted to do was to lie down and sleep.

Steve kept talking, but Bucky was tired and stopped listening. He heard the sound of more footsteps a while later, though, and suddenly there were more people there.

“Fuck,” Clint said from somewhere above him. Bucky agreed.

Natasha was there, suddenly. She looked scared, which was weird. Natasha never looked scared.

“Hey,” Bucky said. He was glad she was there.

Relief flooded her face. “Hey, Bucky. You’re going to be fine, okay?”

She stopped talking to him after that and started talking to Steve instead. “Was he talking more when he got here?”

“Not really. He’ll say something occasionally but he won’t tell me what happened. I think he walked here, but I don’t even know how he did it because I think a lot of his ribs are broken, and his breathing isn’t right and something’s wrong with his leg, too. And his head, feel the back of his head.”

“Shit. Is that where the blood’s coming from?”

“Some of it. Not all of it though. There’s all this glass in his back and his shoulders, I don’t know where that’s from but some of it looks really deep and I didn’t want to touch it – “

“No, that’s good, Steve. He’s going to be fine. We need to get him in the car right now, though. Wait, how long did they say the ambulance would be?”

“An hour and a fucking half to get here, half an hour to the hospital.”

“This fucking town. Okay, we need to get him up. I’m worried about carrying him with those ribs, we don’t want to move them anymore.”

They kept talking after that, and suddenly there were arms around him making him stand up. It hurt like hell, and Bucky moaned as he was suddenly upright.

“Sorry,” all three of them said at once. Steve and Clint had their arms around him, which was probably for the best because Bucky’s legs wouldn’t take his weight.

Getting outside was all right. The night air felt good against his face again. It was easier to breathe that in than the stuffy air inside.

The problem came when suddenly he was being pulled into an SUV. His ribs twisted as someone pulled him through the door, and Bucky screamed.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said miserably from somewhere behind him. Bucky’s vision was fading again, and he felt his head loll backwards as the car’s engine started.

“Fuck,” someone said again. “Steve, keep him awake.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Talk to him or something. Just don’t let him pass out.”

Bucky was curled on the backseat of the car, his head in Steve’s lap. It was actually pretty comfortable, except that the car was moving and Bucky wanted it not to be. The car bounced over the curb as they pulled onto the road, and Bucky moaned as pain flooded his head again.

“Clint,” Natasha said reproachfully.

“I’m sorry! This car doesn’t have great suspension, you know that!”

“Bucky, wake up,” Steve was saying to him. “Come on.”

“No,” Bucky said sullenly. Steve sighed.

“Bucky,” Natasha said from somewhere in front of him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“No,” Bucky said.

“Is the rest of your family safe?” Steve asked him.

Bucky thought about that. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly. “’S just me, Stevie. Always just me.”

“Okay,” Steve said. The car hit a pothole, and Bucky cried out again. The world spun around him, and Bucky sank into it gratefully.

“Hey, no,” Steve said.

“Bucky,” Natasha commanded. “Why don’t you… why don’t you tell me something you like about Steve?”

Bucky opened his eyes a little at that. “Lots of things.”

“Name one.”

“He’s nice,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve laughed weakly. “High praise.”

“’S true,” Bucky insisted.

“It’s true,” Clint confirmed from the front seat.

“Okay, good,” Natasha said. “Something else.”

“He’s hot.”

Everyone laughed at that, and Bucky smiled.

“That’s also true,” Natasha told him. Bucky only heard her voice faintly, because he was sinking down again and it was very comfortable.

“Bucky, wake up. Tell me something else.”

“Um,” Bucky mumbled. “I love him a lot.”

Steve’s hands tightened on Bucky’s shoulders.

“Aw, that’s cute. Keep talking, Bucky.”

Bucky wanted to, he really did, but his chest hurt a lot and his throat felt weird and he’d started feeling really nauseous. He just moaned instead.

“Clint?” Natasha’s voice said again.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Clint said. “If I go any faster on these roads, we’re going right off the cliff.”

The roads in question were making Bucky feel even more nauseous, and he wasn’t surprised when he started to cough. The coughing turned into gagging, and suddenly everyone was swearing again.

“Fuck. Help him sit up, Steve.”

“I’m trying! I can feel one of his ribs, Natasha, it’s almost sticking out of his skin –“

“Well he’s going to choke otherwise!”

Natasha was suddenly also in the backseat with them, although Bucky wasn’t sure how. She helped Steve pull him upright, and Bucky could finally breathe again.

“Is that blood?” Steve asked frantically.

“I think so,” Natasha said. “Clint, drive faster.”

Steve was sounding more and more upset, which also made Bucky upset. He didn’t like it when Steve was unhappy. “He’s throwing up blood, Natasha!”

“I know, Steve. You have to calm down. His breathing gets worse the more upset you get.”

“Calm down? You’re asking me to fucking calm down?”

“Yes. For now. Or else Clint will pull this car over and we’ll leave you on the side of the road and you can walk to the hospital.”

“No,” Bucky said hurriedly. He coughed again, and the breath he tried to take in felt weird and heavy. “No.” His heart started to beat faster.

“Okay, okay,” Natasha said hurriedly. “I wasn’t serious, Bucky.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve said. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled. He was so tired, and the car was warm. He was safe here. Steve and Natasha would never let anyone hurt him, he was pretty sure.

“Bucky?” someone said. Bucky couldn’t figure out who it was. Everything was getting darker and heavier again.

Someone was holding him up now, and someone else was shaking him gently. It kind of hurt, but it didn’t matter because everything was comfortable and the pain was going away.

 

He woke up again a while later, because there was a sudden jolt and it sent pain all the way through his body. Light was shining in the car, and the doors were opening and Natasha was shouting something. Someone was pulling him out of the car, and it hurt way too much and he was screaming but they weren’t stopping. Other people were there, then, and Steve was gone and these people were strangers and Bucky didn’t trust them. He wanted Steve back, or Natasha, or Clint, and Steve had promised that he wouldn’t leave but he wasn’t here anymore and there was something on his face now and something in his arm and then everything was getting quiet and dark and peaceful again.


	13. Chapter 13

It was quiet when he woke up again, except for the soft beeping of machines. Bucky didn’t open his eyes, but slowly the sounds of the room started to grow louder. He was definitely in a bed, which was nice, but he couldn’t move at all. He tried to shift around a little, just to see what would happen, but something was tying him down and it was useless.

People were talking, too. He recognized Steve’s voice, another that he thought was Natasha’s, and someone else too.

Steve’s voice sounded hoarse and painful, but the anger was still very much present in it. “I’m going to kill him, I’m going to fucking kill him, Natasha.”

“I know, Steve. Believe me, I’m not going to stop you. I’ll probably help. But Bucky needs you here right now, you can’t just go running off – “

“Both of you need to stop talking like that. The police are right outside, if they hear Steve loudly declaring that he’s going to murder someone they aren’t going to be too happy about it.”

“I don’t fucking care –“

Bucky’s heart rate started to pick up. He didn’t know why he was here, he didn’t know why Steve was so mad, and most of all he wanted to know why he couldn’t move and _holy shit why did everything hurt so much what the fuck._

Everyone was talking over each other again and more people were running into the room and machines were beeping and Bucky tried to open his eyes but the lights were too bright and it made his head feel worse and –

 

Waking up the next time was a little easier. He was propped up now, and it was easier to breathe. Bucky managed to open his eyes this time, and he was glad to see that the fluorescent lights were off in the room. It was dark outside the windows, and Bucky blinked slowly as the room came into focus.

Steve was slumped in a chair next to his bed, his head in his hands. Natasha was curled on the couch surrounded by a pile of papers. She had more pieces of paper in each hand, and was looking at one of them with a frown.  

Bucky experimentally tried to move a little. Everything in his body hurt, although nothing was as painful as his head. To his delight, both his legs and his arms moved when he tried. That was good, that was very good. Not paralyzed, then.

Both Steve and Natasha looked up. They both looked so tired. Steve in particular looked awful, and Steve usually didn’t look awful.

Natasha was immediately on her feet and running out of the room. Steve was smiling at him, although it was a very tired smile. Bucky was still happy about that though. Steve should always be smiling.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice still hoarse. “Welcome back.”

Bucky stared at him. He hadn’t gone anywhere. At least, he didn’t think so.

Natasha came back into the room, a man in a white lab coat right behind her. Probably a doctor, then. Only doctors wore things like that.

“Hi, Bucky,” the doctor said, standing next to his bed. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Jacobsen. Can you tell me your name?”

The doctor definitely knew his name. He’d just said it. Bucky was tired and this guy was already pissing him off.

He stared blankly at the doctor.

Natasha had gone back over to stand behind Steve, her hand on his shoulder. Steve was looking at Bucky worriedly.

“Okay,” the doctor said easily. He was writing things down on a clipboard. “Can you tell me which month it is, Bucky?”

Of course he… actually, Bucky didn’t know what month it was. That was weird. It was definitely winter, though. Or fall. Or that weird transition time in between fall and winter.

“All right,” the doctor said. Steve looked upset. “That’s okay. Do you know where you are, Bucky?”

He was in a hospital. He didn’t know which hospital, exactly, but definitely a hospital. Bucky nodded carefully, even though it hurt his head.

Apparently that was a good response, because Natasha smiled and Steve reached out and grabbed his hand. The doctor was smiling, too.

“Great, that’s great,” he said happily. He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and held it up to Bucky’s face. “Sorry about this, it’ll just take a sec – “

Bucky flinched as he shone the light directly in Bucky’s eyes, sending more jolts of pain through his head. The doctor also seemed happy about this.

“Good, very good,” Dr. Jacobsen said, scribbling more things down on the clipboard. “Okay, Bucky, can you move your legs and feet for me please?”

“He was moving a moment ago,” Steve said eagerly.

“That’s good, but I need to see how he processes my commands,” Dr. Jacobsen told him. Bucky wanted to roll his eyes, but that would probably be very painful. He settled for moving his legs a little.

They all looked happy at that. Jesus, what had been going on while Bucky had been out?

Dr. Jacobsen picked up each of Bucky’s hands, gently taking his left one from Steve’s grasp. Steve didn’t look pleased at that, but he let go anyway. “Okay, Bucky. Can you squeeze my hands as hard as you can?”

Bucky took as deep of a breath as he could and did as he was told.

“Great,” the doctor said again. He was so fucking cheerful. It was irritating. “Okay, Bucky, you’re doing great."

Bucky didn’t feel that great. He actually felt really nauseous and his head hurt.

“Can you tell me your friend’s name?” the doctor asked. He was pointing at Steve.

Of course Bucky could. He opened his mouth, but his throat was dry and painful. He coughed a few times before he managed to speak. “Steve.”

Natasha smiled, and Steve’s face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. He reached over and grabbed Bucky’s hand again, grinning.

“And your other friend, here?”

He was pointing at Natasha now. Her name was way too complicated to say out loud right now, so Bucky made it easier.

“Nat.”

“Great!” the doctor said again. “Just a quick question. Can you tell me my name?”

Bucky stared at him. He didn’t think the doctor had said his name. Had he?

He must have, because Steve’s face fell and Natasha frowned.

“No problem,” the doctor said, writing more things down. “That’s quite all right, Bucky. I’m Dr. Jacobsen.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said tiredly. He probably should have remembered the guy’s name.

“It’s okay, Bucky,” Steve said reassuringly. He squeezed Bucky’s hand.

Bucky blinked slowly at him as his eyelids grew heavier. He was so tired again. It was a little annoying.

Dr. Jacobsen was talking to Natasha now, but Bucky just kept staring at Steve’s face until he fell asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS this chapter is short and I'm sorry about that! I have to run off and do halloween things, but I'll try and post another one tomorrow as well. The response to the last chapter was amazing and I love all of you and I promise I'll reply to all of your comments as soon as I can! As always, you can message me on tumblr at cameronwolfe.tumblr.com!


	14. Chapter 14

Steve was somehow still there when Bucky opened his eyes again. It was daylight now, but the lights were still off in his room and the curtains were firmly closed.

Steve was sitting on the couch with a laptop open on his lap. He was frowning at the screen.

The pain in Bucky’s ribs was worse this time, and he shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t help at all.

Steve looked up and immediately tossed the laptop carelessly onto the cushion beside him. He hurried back over to sit in the chair next to Bucky’s bed again.

“Hey,” Steve said, trying to smile at him. He looked so exhausted. It wasn’t really fair. All Bucky was doing was sleeping, Steve shouldn’t have to stay awake for that. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Bucky mumbled. That was a blatant lie, but it seemed to make Steve happy.

“That’s great. They’ve got you maxed out on painkillers right now, but I can maybe talk to the nurses and see if they can up the dose a little – “

“No,” Bucky said hurriedly. His head felt weird and clouded. He didn’t want any more painkillers than he absolutely needed.

“Okay,” Steve said just as quickly. “Whatever you want.”

Someone shouted something in the hallway outside, and Bucky winced. The sound made his head hurt even more.

“How long?” he tried to ask Steve. His mouth wouldn’t work right the first time he tried, and it took another few minutes of weak coughing before he got the words out.

“Since…” Steve trailed off, clearly uncertain about what Bucky meant.

“How long have I been here?” Bucky asked.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Uh, two weeks.”

“What?” Bucky nearly shouted indignantly. He tried to sit up, but pain tore through his ribs and lights danced in front of his eyes.

Steve gently pushed him back onto the pillows, but his eyes were on the monitors above Bucky’s head.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve said hurriedly. “They needed to keep you sedated for a while, and then you only woke up on your own a few days ago.”

“’S not okay,” Bucky said.

“It will be,” Steve said firmly. He carefully sat back down in his chair, still keeping his hand pressed to Bucky’s shoulder.

“Two weeks, huh,” Bucky mumbled, trying to blink away the stars that were still in his vision.

“Yeah.”

“How bad is it?”

Steve frowned at him. “How bad is what?”

“Me,” Bucky said. He gingerly raised his hand to point at his own head. “This.”

“Oh,” Steve said awkwardly. “It’s okay. You’re going to be completely fine.”

“Steve.”

“No, really. I can get the doctor to come and talk to you, but they said you should make a full recovery.”

“How long’s that gonna take?”

Steve frowned. “As long as it needs to.”

Bucky knew there was no use arguing with him over this, so he let himself relax back into his pillows. “How’re you?”

“Me?” Steve said incredulously. “I’m fine.”

“You look tired,” Bucky informed him.

“No, I’m okay, really. Natasha went home to shower and change, but she’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll take a nap then, it’ll be fine.”

Steve leaned forward, reaching for Bucky’s hand.

“We didn’t want to mention this earlier because we wanted you to heal a little first,” Steve said eagerly. “But I’ve been doing a lot of research, and Natasha’s got a few friends on the police force. We talked to them, and we think that we can get him on both assault and battery charges, and maybe even attempted murder – “

“No,” Bucky said.

Steve stared at him. “No, listen, it’s okay. When you’re on a lower dose of painkillers, the police will come and talk to you and then they can start the arrest process – “

“No.”

Steve sat back in his chair, although he didn’t let go of Bucky’s hand. “Why?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, the pain from his ribs becoming distracting. “Just… no.”

“But…” Steve said slowly. He was frowning now. “Bucky, if you don’t press charges, the police won’t be able to do anything. He’ll get away with it, you can’t let him – “

“I can do whatever I want,” Bucky snapped. “And I’m not talking to the fucking police.”

Steve was clearly trying to be patient, but his grip on Bucky’s hand was becoming a little painful. “Bucky, it’s okay. You’ll be safe the whole time, I promise. Natasha and I will – “

“No, Steve.”

Steve looked visibly upset by now. “Why, Bucky? I don’t understand – “

“No, you _don’t_ understand!” Bucky said, trying to keep his voice calm. “I appreciate you doing all of this, Steve. You know I do. But I’m not going to talk to the police.”

“He’s going to get away with it if you don’t!”

“I know,” Bucky said, the calmness in his voice at odds with the anger in Steve’s.

“It won’t even take long, Nat’s got one of them on speed dial, we can have this over with in twenty minutes – “

“If you call the police in here,” Bucky said, his voice flat. “I’ll tell them that I provoked him. I’ll tell them that I threw the first punch, and that he was defending himself. That makes his actions self-defence.”

Steve looked horrified. “This clearly wasn’t self-defence, Bucky! Why would you – “

Bucky was saved from having to continue this conversation by the room suddenly starting to spin around him. Bucky’s eyes drifted away from Steve’s face and up to the ceiling, which was nicely out of focus and blurry. It kind of felt like being on a rollercoaster, which wasn’t that bad of a feeling.

The frantic beeping of the monitors was a little annoying though. It hurt his ears, and suddenly Steve wasn’t holding his hand anymore and there were more people clustered around him. Someone was shining another light into his eyes, which hurt way more than it should have. Bucky’s vision darkened again, and he sank back into sleep gratefully.


	15. Chapter 15

Steve and Natasha were arguing again. Bucky didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that.

“Do you really think you’re going to be any use to him like this? You’re going to make yourself sick, Steve, and I really cannot deal with having both of you in the hospital right now. You need sleep. You need a shower. You need actual food, not this bullshit they serve in the cafeteria here.”

“I can’t just leave him, Natasha! When he wakes up again –

“When he wakes up again, he’s going to need our full support! And right now, you’re not in the place to give him that.”

“He needs to press charges, Natasha! His dad is going to get away with it otherwise – “

“I know that, Steve. But you also have to respect Bucky’s wishes.”

“I’m trying! I’m doing everything I can – “

“Well maybe you need to be doing a little less, Steve, because right now you’re making everything worse – “

Something crashed to the floor, and then Bucky heard a door slam shut.

“Tasha,” Clint’s voice said warningly.

“I know, Clint.”  

“Cut the guy some slack. He’s trying his best.”

“He’s being an idiot! He’s running himself into the ground here, he’s not going to be any use to Bucky if he dies of exhaustion.”

“Yeah, he is, and we’ll deal with that. He’s tired, you’re tired, I’m tired. Don’t take this out on him.”

“I’m not taking anything out on him.”

“You sure about that? Because I’ve heard you snap at him three times in the last hour, and you’re just lucky that he’s too tired to really argue back.”  

“I didn’t mean to.”

Clint sighed. “I know, Tasha. Steve knows that too.”

“I’ll go talk to him, I will. I just… I just need a minute. I fucking hate this place, Clint.”

“I don’t think anyone really likes it.”

“Yeah, but he was supposed to be out of here a week ago!”

“You can’t rush this kind of stuff.”

“They said he was doing better, and here we are. Back at square one.”

“This isn’t square one. His breathing is fine, his vitals are good, and all of his ribs are healing. You heard the doctor this morning. His new scans look a lot better.”

“It sure as hell feels like square one.”

“We can talk to Jacobsen when he comes back in tomorrow morning, and…”

Clint was still talking, and Bucky really wanted to hear what he said, but he was sinking back down again and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Bucky felt a ridiculous surge of triumph when he finally got his eyes open again. It was night, now, and the room was dark except for the sole lamp in the corner and the light filtering through the door.

Steve and Natasha were both asleep on the couch. Natasha was curled up against Steve, his arm wrapped protectively around her. Steve was slumped against the back of the couch, his feet propped up on a chair.

Bucky didn’t want to wake them. He experimentally moved his legs and arms again, and was pleased to find that it was much easier now. His ankle twinged a little, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Next, he tried to sit up a little more. His ribs were definitely still aching and it hurt to move, but it was a lot better than it had been. He was pretty sure that he could even sit up all the way, if he really tried.

His thoughts still felt slow and distant, but the pain in his head was much better than it had been. He wasn’t sure how much of that was the painkillers and how much was normal healing, but either way he was happy about it.

There was a cup of water on the table next to him, and Bucky carefully tried to reach for it without pulling out any of the many tubes taped to his arm. His muscles felt weak and stiff from lack of use, and all he managed to do was knock the cup right off the table.

Bucky winced at the noise, and Steve and Natasha immediately woke up. Both of them stared at him, their eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Bucky said.

They nearly tripped over each other in the rush to get to his bed quickly. Natasha quickly grabbed the cup off the floor.

“Was this water? I’ll get you some more water,” she said, darting out of the room. Bucky stared after her.

“Hi,” Steve said, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He had that smile back on his face, though, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile weakly back.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Bucky said, allowing Steve to push him gently back onto his pillows.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve said hastily. He dropped tiredly into the chair beside Bucky’s bed again. “I’m just glad to hear your voice again.”

“How long this time?” Bucky asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“Since the last time you asked? Three more days.”

“Nooo,” Bucky moaned, closing his eyes again. “Why?”

“They said that this happens sometimes. Your brain is healing, but with a trauma injury this severe it can take time. That’s why you’ve been sleeping so much.”

“Great,” Bucky said with as much sarcasm as he could manage.

Natasha ran back through the door again. “I got you water, but I also grabbed orange juice and Sprite. Apparently they don’t want you drinking Sprite but I stole it anyway.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, trying to smile as brightly at her as he could manage. All this talking was already making him tired again, and he watched her set the cups on the table next to him without trying to move.

Steve was holding his hand again, although his grip was ridiculously gentle. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” Bucky told him honestly. “Tired.”

“They’ve got you on some pretty heavy meds,” Natasha said as she settled at the end of his bed.

“I was supposed to go get the doctor the minute you woke up,” Steve said hesitantly. “But I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky told him with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. Steve rushed out of the room.

Bucky looked straight at Natasha, the smile falling off his face. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“How bad is it?”

“How bad is what?”

Bucky pointed at his head.

Natasha stared at him evenly. “It’s not that bad – “

“Nat,” Bucky said. “Don’t lie.”

She sighed and put her hand on his leg. “I’m not – “

“Nat, I know what my name is and I know who you are and I know we’re in the hospital,” Bucky said. “But I don’t remember what year it is and I don’t know what hospital I’m at and there’s a sign on that wall behind you but I can’t read what it says. Tell me how bad it is.”

Natasha looked uncharacteristically sad. “The doctor can explain it better than I can, but he uses all sorts of medical terms that Steve and I have to keep googling after he leaves. Basically, it’s a traumatic brain injury and it _will_ heal. It can take a lot of time, though.”

“And?” Bucky said slowly.

“And they don’t know if you’ll ever recover completely.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. He was glad that he knew now, at least. “Uh, thanks.”

Natasha must have seen something in the expression in his face, because she leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “It’ll be okay, Bucky.”

“Okay,” Bucky said again. He was pretty sure he was doing a terrible job of hiding his emotions, because Steve walked back into the room and immediately frowned upon seeing Bucky’s face.

Steve walked back around to the chair and sat down again, gently grasping Bucky’s hand.

“You okay?” Steve asked him.

“Yeah,” Bucky told him with more confidence than he felt.

A doctor came into the room, then, smiling cheerfully. It was at odds with the glum mood in the room.

“Good evening, Bucky,” he said happily. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” Bucky said, gripping Steve’s hand more tightly.

“That’s great to hear. Could you tell me my name?” the doctor asked, beaming at him over his clipboard.

Bucky frowned and looked over at Steve. How would he know this guy’s name? He hadn’t introduced himself.

Steve squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I don’t…” Bucky said haltingly.

“That’s okay,” the doctor said, although he wasn’t smiling as much anymore. “I’m Dr. Jacobsen.”

 

Steve tried to bring up the whole police issue the next day. Bucky was sitting up in bed by then, poking at his lunch with distaste.

“They just need a quick statement from you, that’s all you have to do. It’ll be really easy – “

“Is this the pudding or the soup?” Bucky asked, frowning at the lunch tray in front of him. “There’s two bowls, but they both look the same. Do you think Natasha can smuggle me in some hamburgers or something?”

“Bucky.”

“Steve,” Bucky replied in the same voice. Steve was slumped in the chair, his face tired.

“Bucky, I’m trying to listen to you. You know that. But I just don’t understand why you’re you doing this. He’d go to jail, Bucky. He’d be out of your life.”

Bucky gave up and dropped the spoon back onto the tray. “For what, two years?”

“We could try for a longer sentence – “

“Okay, let’s say five, max. Between the overcrowding and the underfunding, he’d be out in around three.”

Steve sighed. “You don’t know that for sure – “

“Yes, I do,” Bucky said. “Do you think I haven’t thought about this, Steve? Do you think I haven’t done all my own research on this, way before all this shit happened?”

Steve looked worried now. His eyes flicked to the monitors, which showed Bucky’s heart rate starting to elevate.

Bucky waved his hand impatiently. “I’m fine. But Steve, how long have you known me for?”

“Not that long, Bucky, I know that – “

“That’s what you don’t seem to get, though! You’ve been around for a tiny, tiny part of my life in comparison to all the rest. This isn’t a new thing. This didn’t just start after I met you.”

“I know that,” Steve said hurriedly. “I know that you’ve been dealing with this for a really long time – “

“Then please, _please_ accept that I know what I’m talking about.”

Steve looked miserable.

“Okay, Bucky, I’m not… I’m not trying to upset you! And you’re right, this is your life and this is your family. But you showed up on my doorstep, Bucky! I had to sit there and hold you and I thought you were dying right in front of me. That was one of the worst nights of my life, and trust me, I’ve had some bad ones. And that’s why I can’t… that’s why I can’t let this go! I can’t deal with the fact that he’s walking around out there completely free, and that he’s eating dinner with the rest of your family while you’re stuck here in the hospital.”

“I _know,_ “ Bucky said desperately. He pushed the lunch tray away so he could face Steve properly. “But I can’t… you don’t know him, Steve, you don’t know what he’s like – “

“I know that he almost killed you.”

“But he didn’t! And I’m not going back there, Steve, you don’t have to worry – “

“Of course I have to fucking worry! And what about your siblings, Bucky, I worry about them too – “

“He’d never touch them,” Bucky said quickly. “He never has, it’s only ever been me.”

Steve got up and walked over to the window, leaning his forehead against the glass. “But you’re not there anymore, Bucky. I know you care about those kids more than anything, I just want to make sure that they’re safe – “

“They are!” Bucky insisted. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tugged impatiently at the tubes taped to his arms and chest. “They are, Steve, I’d never, I’d never, they…”

Steve turned around again, frowning. “Bucky, don’t try and get up.”

Bucky hadn’t really tried, not really, but his head was hurting so much and his breathing was getting harsh and fast and he couldn’t seem to stop it. “They aren’t, they’re fine, Steve, he wouldn’t hurt them, we can’t, we can’t talk to the police, okay? No police, not ever, they’ll be fine – “

Steve was somehow right in front of him now with that look on his face again. “Bucky, lie back down, it’s okay.”

Bucky dug his hands into the blankets on the bed, the monitors beeping loudly. “No it’s not, it’s not, Steve, you, you… but they…”

Natasha walked back into the room at that moment, a croissant in one hand and her phone in the other. She dropped both onto the table the instant she walked in, a frown crossing her face.

“What the hell? I leave for five minutes – “

“Nat,” Bucky said desperately. “Nat, he… they are…”

Natasha was suddenly front of him too, helping Steve to push Bucky back down onto his pillows again. “Steve, were you asking him about the police thing again? I told you not to bring that up!”

“I know!” Steve said miserably. He was still holding Bucky down against the pillows. “I didn’t mean to upset him, Natasha, you know I didn’t.”

“I know,” Natasha said to him, a little more gently. “And we’ll talk about this later. I don’t disagree with you on this, Steve.”

Bucky was gasping for air now, although his monitors showed that he actually had plenty of air in his lungs.

“Bucky, you’re safe, it’s okay,” Natasha said.

Bucky knew that he was safe. He wasn’t a child. He knew where he was, he knew what was going on, and he knew that he wasn’t in any fucking danger here. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that all of that fear that Steve’s words had stirred up had inexplicably turned into rage that Bucky really could not control. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be like this, and he definitely did not want to be in this hospital anymore.

He tried to explain this all to Steve and Natasha. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t angry with them, at all. He knew that they meant well by trying to involve the police. He knew that his reaction to this was overdone and unnecessary, and that they should all just talk about this calmly. But he was in so much pain, and there were so many loud noises, and he was trying to talk but the words just weren’t there. Bucky knew what he meant to say, he knew what he wanted to say, but when he tried to form the sentences it just… didn’t happen. This only served to make him even more frustrated, which turned into more anger.

The rage was so all-encompassing that Bucky couldn’t focus on anything else. He knew that Steve had pushed Natasha back behind him, and that Steve was holding him down against the bed. He knew that he’d broken whatever had been nearest to his bed, including a couple of plates and lamps. There were more people in the room then, and they were all grabbing his arms and his legs and sticking needles into him, and they were all so rough as they did so. Bucky didn’t like being grabbed like that. They weren’t being gentle like Steve was. That only made him angrier, and he kicked harder and then there were more people there too.

A heavy lethargy was spreading through his veins, and Bucky was almost grateful for whatever sedative it was. It dragged him down into unconsciousness against his will, and all he could do was tell Steve how sorry he was for all of this, over and over until his mouth wouldn’t work anymore and he couldn’t move at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks again for all the comments and messages, I love reading each and every one of them. I love hearing all of your thoughts on this, keep 'em coming!


	16. Chapter 16

Thankfully, everything was peaceful when he woke up again. Steve was sitting in the chair next to his bed, like always. Bucky was glad to see that he had one of his textbooks open on his lap. Steve shouldn’t be falling behind in his classes just because Bucky was a useless piece of shit and apparently couldn’t be trusted to leave a hospital bed.

“Hey,” Bucky croaked, his throat hoarse again.

Steve looked up, a tired smile spreading across his face. “Hey. Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. God, now he wanted to cry. Bucky never cried, which made this even more fucking annoying. He needed to get his emotions under control.

“I heard you kicked that security guard that I hate,” Clint said cheerfully from where he was sprawled on the couch.

Natasha frowned at Clint. She was curled up next to him. “Which one?”

“The one that wouldn’t let me bring my coffee in that one time.”

“Oh yeah,” Natasha said. “Nice going, Bucky.”

Bucky knew that they were trying to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working all that well. He wanted to express that, but he couldn’t find the words again.

The three of them bantered back and forth to each other, while Bucky tried to smile and not look as horrible as he felt.

“Do you want some more water?” Steve asked, noticing the way Bucky’s eyes drifted to the plastic cup on his bedside table.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bucky mumbled. Steve got up and grabbed the empty pitcher from the table, heading out into the hall.

“We finally convinced him to do some of his homework,” Natasha said with a smile. “Although to be fair, I looked through his textbook and most of that stuff is boring as hell – “

Natasha broke off when they heard Steve’s voice from down the hallway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Steve was shouting at someone. Bucky’s stomach turned over. He’d never heard Steve’s voice sound like that. Ever.

Clint and Natasha glanced at each other, and then were both on their feet at the same time. Natasha was first out the door, with Clint right behind her. Clint pulled the door firmly shut behind him, cutting off most of the noise from the commotion in the hallway.

Bucky was left alone in his hospital room, staring at the closed door. He could hear people shouting and arguing, although it was hard to pick out who was talking. A lot of the nurses were involved now, he could tell that much. There were dull thuds against the wall, too, which sounded distinctly like someone being thrown against it.

Bucky wanted to get out of bed, but his head was already spinning badly. He knew that he’d just collapse if he tried to stand up, let alone sit up. And so he lay there and stared at the door in silence.

The door creaked open, and Bucky was very confused when he didn’t see anyone appear in the doorway. It shut again a moment later, and Bucky raised his head to see Grace standing at the foot of his bed. Her eyes were wide, and she clutched her teddy bear firmly under her arm.

“Hey,” Bucky said hoarsely. “Gracie?”

“Hi,” Grace said quietly, coming to stand next to his bed. She looked uncharacteristically shy, which Bucky figured had something to do with the many tubes and wires stuck to his body right now.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked her softly. People were still yelling outside the room.

“We came to visit you,” Grace said, clutching her teddy bear more tightly.

“I’m glad,” Bucky told her. He patted the bed beside him, and she eagerly scrambled up to sit next to him. “I missed you guys a lot.”

“Ethan and Rebecca didn’t come,” Grace told him. “But Mom said I could. You don’t look very good.”

Bucky laughed weakly. “Yeah, I know. How are you, though?”

Grace experimentally poked at one of the tubes going into Bucky’s arm. “I’m fine. No one plays board games with me anymore, though.”

“That’s too bad,” Bucky said. “How’s that science project going? The one with the frogs?”

Grace frowned. “Not very good. Miss Lucas said there’s no frogs around this time of year, and I think she’s right because I haven’t even found one yet.”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “Did you check the pond behind Hayden’s house?”

“No…”

“There’ll be some there,” Bucky told her confidently. She beamed at him.

“Okay. Me and Ethan will go there tomorrow, then. When are you coming home, Bucky?”

Bucky sighed. From the sounds of it, the security guards had gotten involved in whatever was happening outside the doors.

“I don’t know, Gracie,” he said honestly. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back to live with you, okay? I’m really sorry. I’ll still be around, though. I promised to take you to the new space museum when it opens, remember?”

“Yeah,” Grace said sadly. “Will you come to my class play, though? It’s a musical.”

“Of course,” Bucky told her. “Which part did you get?”

“I’m Lucy,” she told him, her frown turning back into a smile. “I sing three songs – “

The door banged open, and Bucky’s mother rushed through. Her normally perfect hair was a mess and her eyes were wild. “Grace! Grace, we have to go, where – “

She froze when her eyes landed on Bucky. He stared back at her, fully aware that his eyes weren’t even open all the way and that his face was probably an awful grey colour.

“I don’t want to go,” Grace told her, snuggling closer into Bucky. “Bucky’s here, I want to stay with him – “

“We have to go,” his mother repeated. She was still standing in the doorway, her hand over her mouth.

More shouts came from down the hallway, and that appeared to knock her out of her stupor. She rushed forward, lifting Grace off the bed easily.

“No!” Grace shouted, struggling to get free. “Bucky!”

Bucky couldn’t do anything except lie there. His mother was trying to hold onto Grace, who was desperately trying to free herself, but her eyes were still fixed on Bucky.

“I’m sorry,” Winifred whispered to him. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t wanna go!” Grace shrieked, descending into a full blown tantrum. “Mom!”

Winifred was backing towards the door, tears now running down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said again. Grace was sobbing now too, her arms reaching out for Bucky.

Winifred backed out the door, her eyes never leaving Bucky’s bed. He watched them go, not even flinching as someone else pulled the door shut tightly behind him.

The room was quiet again, apart from the muffled noises from outside. Bucky stared at the wall.

 

Natasha was the first one to come back.

“Hey,” she said softly, coming to sit on the edge of Bucky’s bed again.

“Hey,” he replied, still staring at the wall. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes.”

“Why hasn’t Steve come back, then?”

“He, uh, has to go talk to the security guards,” Natasha said. “Clint’s with him. They’re both fine, though. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said.

 

Sure enough, Steve and Clint walked back in an hour later. Steve immediately hurried over to Bucky’s bed.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his face worried.

“I’m fine,” Bucky repeated. “Are you?”

“Of course,” Steve said, sitting down in the chair.

“And how’s my dad?”

Steve winced and exchanged a glance with Natasha.

“He’s, uh…” Steve started.

“Security escorted him out,” Natasha said. “Steve got a few good punches in first, though.”

Bucky knew he was supposed to smile at that, but he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feel happy about it, but he wasn’t sad either. Or angry. There was just… nothing.

Bucky stared at the wall.

He was aware that Steve and Natasha were still talking to him in reassuring tones, but it was one of those days where it was hard to focus on individual voices and words. He kept getting distracted by a painting on the wall, or the way the shadows danced on the curtains.

“When can we get out of here?” Bucky asked abruptly.

“That depends,” Steve said slowly. “They want to wait until you pass this whole series of tests and more scans before they’ll let you leave. Are you okay with that?”

Bucky had honestly forgotten what he’d asked, so he just nodded. It must have been the right answer, because both Steve and Natasha smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

Bucky was doing a great job of passing his tests.

Even Dr. Jacob (was that his name? that didn’t sound right) said that he was doing “better than they ever could have hoped”.

Of course, Bucky was cheating.

He hadn’t actually meant to do that. It just so happened that he was having a bad day when the first specialist came to see him. His headache was worse than usual, and he’d gotten very little sleep as a result.

This, combined with the stress of having to deal with this specialist, made Bucky started to panic a little. He’d asked if Steve could stay with him to help him stay calm, and the specialist had agreed.

The session had started off fine. She’d introduced herself, and Bucky had promptly forgotten her name. She’d continued by asking him a series of questions while Bucky sat in his bed, propped up on his pillows. Steve sat in the chair beside the specialist, paying careful attention to her words.

The woman asked Bucky a long series of questions that were clearly designed to test his memory. Sometimes she’d tell him a quick story, and then ask him questions about it a few minutes later.

Bucky didn’t know most of the answers. He knew that he _should_ know them, but when he thought about the question the answer was just… gone. It was frustrating.

Bucky wanted to be out of this hospital, he wanted Steve to have his normal life back, and he didn’t want to be doing this tests anymore.

That was why Bucky started cheating.

Bucky had always been good at reading people’s faces. He was great at playing poker, he was great at making friends, and he’d always been great at knowing when people were lying. It just so happened that Steve in particular had a terrible poker face.

When the specialist asked a question, Bucky would just glance at Steve’s face. Steve always reacted when the woman gave Bucky one of the two answers, and Bucky would simply pick that one.

“Okay, Bucky,” the woman said. Bucky thought her name was Sandra. Or Sarah? Sally? Something like that. “In that story I just told you, there were two cars. Was the car red, or was it blue?”

Bucky hadn’t actually been able to even pay attention to the story, but Steve always frowned slightly whenever Sandra/Sarah/Sally said the incorrect option. He’d frowned at ‘blue’, and so that was what Bucky went with.

“Uh, red. It was a red car.”

“Great!” Sally (or Sophie? Stacy?) said. “You’re doing great, Bucky.”

She was actually a very nice woman, but she was another one of those people who treated Bucky like a child. He didn’t need to be patronized. He knew what was going on. He knew exactly what he didn’t know.

The rest of the session continued that way.

“In that picture I showed you, was the dog sitting in front of the tree or the bench?”

Steve didn’t react to either of those, but frowned slightly after the woman stopped talking.

“There wasn’t a dog in the picture,” Bucky said calmly. The woman smiled and checked something off on her clipboard.

When it was over, she packed up her things and didn’t give Bucky a second glance. She shook Steve’s hand, though, and chatted to him as he walked her to the door.

“Bye, Stephanie,” Steve said cheerfully as he shut the door behind her. “Have a great day.”

Bucky scowled at him as Steve walked back over to the bed.

“She treated me like a little kid,” Bucky complained, grabbing his glass of water and drinking it angrily.

“She did,” Steve agreed, settling down in his chair again. “It kind of pissed me off.”

“Really?” Bucky said. He couldn’t help grinning a little. “You were so polite, though.”

Steve shrugged. “We need her to give you a good mark on that test.”

Bucky laughed and tossed one of his pillows harmlessly at him. He didn’t mention that Steve’s presence was all Bucky needed to get good marks.

 

Every day, there was another therapist or specialist or doctor. They’d all put Bucky through test after test, but they let Steve stay in the room through all of them. Even on the tests where Steve’s automatic responses to the questions wouldn’t help him, Bucky could use him to get the right answer.

“What was the name of the boy in that story?” the latest doctor asked him.

“Uh…” Bucky said slowly. “It started with a… with an ‘N’?”

Steve didn’t respond, so Bucky kept talking. “No, an ‘M’”.

Steve smiled slightly, and Bucky remembered the answer. “M…. Martin.”

“Yes, good,” the doctor said. Steve smiled. Bucky didn’t smile back.

 

Everyone was pleased with his progress. Dr. Jacobsen came in a week later to review Bucky’s results and improvement with him.

“This all looks wonderful,” he said, flipping through pieces of paper attached to his clipboard. “These are very good results, Bucky. Better than we could have hoped for.”

Steve was smiling, and even Natasha looked happy.

“What happened with Wednesday’s session, though?” Dr. Jacobsen asked, frowning at the paper. “You performed much worse on that day.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Bucky said quickly. “It made it hard to focus. I felt a lot better the next day, though.”

What had actually happened was that Steve had gone to visit his grandmother for the day, and Natasha had stayed with Bucky instead. Natasha’s face was completely unreadable, like always, and Bucky had been completely reliant on his own brain.

“Oh, okay, I’ll make a note of that,” Dr. Jacobsen said with another smile. “I really do think, Bucky, that there’s nothing more we can do for you here than you couldn’t do at home.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “And that means…”

“That means that you can get out of here tomorrow.”

Bucky cheered, and Natasha grinned. Steve looked so ridiculously proud that Bucky almost felt bad for cheating. Almost.

“You’ll still have to come back in every few days for a check-up, and if there’s any change in your condition we’ll have to re-admit you, but we think…”

Dr. Jacobsen kept talking, but Bucky’s attention drifted. Steve was eagerly writing everything down. Bucky would just read over Steve’s notes later.

 

They made Bucky read a bunch of forms and papers before they let him leave. He had to sign a bunch of waivers, too. He tried to do it, he really did, but the words seemed to blur all over the page when he tried and his mind kept drifting before he even finished a sentence. He ended up convincing Clint to read them out loud for him, and just to point out where he needed to sign.

“Why can’t you just do this?” Clint complained as he finished reading one of the pages out loud to Bucky. “I’ll pack your stuff up for you, I’d rather do that.”

“Nah,” Bucky said casually as he tossed another shirt into the duffel bag Steve had lent him. “You guys have done enough for me, I can pack my stuff myself.”

“Ugh,” Clint said as he started on the next page.

They wouldn’t let Bucky walk out of the hospital. They made him sit in a wheelchair, and then even got a nurse to push it. Bucky complained about it, of course, and Steve and Clint laughed and took pictures. Bucky didn’t mention that he was actually pretty grateful for it, considering the way the world spun around him when he tried to walk the short distance from his bed to the wheelchair.

The fresh air felt amazing. Bucky couldn’t help but grin as all four of them walked back through the hospital parking lot to where Natasha had left her car.

Steve was nearly bouncing with excitement as they walked. “Nat helped me set up the couch so you don’t even have to climb the stairs, you can just hang out there all day. And we stocked up on a ton of dvds, so you’ll have lots of stuff to watch.”

“Guys, you didn’t have to do that!” Bucky protested.

“We wanted to,” Natasha said. She turned her face up to the sun and spread her arms. “I love being outside. I’m never going inside again.”

“Can I have your house, then?” Clint asked as they finally reached the car.

“No. I’m just going to take the roof off it so I can have the sun on my face every day.”

“That’s practical,” Steve said dryly as Natasha unlocked the car. “It’ll be great in the winter.”

Bucky was smiling at their banter, but he was grateful that they’d finally reached the car. He had to brace his arm against the side of the car to get inside, and he collapsed gratefully into the seat. He didn’t even protest when Steve grabbed the duffle bag from him to put in the trunk. Bucky’s head was spinning again and his ribs were aching. That short walk had been more exercise than Bucky had had in weeks.

“You need a bigger car,” Clint informed Natasha as he got into the front seat. Steve slid into the backseat next to Bucky, still smiling.

“My car is fine,” Natasha told him as they pulled out of the parking lot. “It’s not my fault all of you are huge.”

“I am a normal sized human,” Clint informed her. “This car is abnormally small.”

“It’s economical.”

“It has worse gas mileage than my truck!”

“It does not!”

Bucky was trying to pay attention to what they were saying, but the roads leading back into town were twisty. He was getting dizzier the further they drove, and he shut his eyes in an attempt to block out the sight of the ground moving by outside the window.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, shaking Bucky’s arm gently. Bucky opened his eyes to stare at him, frowning.

“What?” Bucky asked.

Steve’s look of perpetual worry was back on his face. “Are you okay?”

Bucky glanced out the window, and noticed with some surprise that they had already reached the edge of the town. That was at least a ten minute drive, and Bucky hadn’t… hadn’t they just been at the hospital?

“Yes,” Bucky told Steve.

Steve was still frowning. “Are you sure? You kind of… I dunno, passed out for a minute. We couldn’t wake you up.”

Bucky blinked at him. He finally noticed that the car was silent, and Clint had turned around in his seat to stare at him. Natasha was watching him in the rearview mirror, her face worried too.

“Nah,” Bucky said, forcing a grin onto his face. “Just took a nap. Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Okay,” Steve said, but he still looked suspicious.

 

Bucky was exhausted by the time they got to Steve’s house. Bucky stumbled when he tried to get out of the car, and Clint caught him before he could fall.

“You alright?” Clint asked with alarm as Bucky leaned heavily against him.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, pulling of Clint’s grasp. “I’m just tired.”

Bucky knew that Steve and Natasha were exchanging looks behind his back, but he was too tired to care. He followed Steve inside the house, but made a beeline for the couch the moment they got in.

Bucky dropped gratefully onto the couch, half disappearing in the pile of blankets and pillows. He could feel himself drifting back to sleep, but he was too exhausted to fight it.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky slept straight through the afternoon, the evening, and all night. He didn’t even wake up until late the next morning.

He was still on the couch when he opened his eyes. The morning sunlight was streaming through the windows, and the house was quiet.

Bucky stretched carefully, taking stock of his pain level like he did every morning. His head only hurt a little, which was a good sign. If he woke up with a splitting headache, it usually didn’t bode well for the rest of the day. His ribs twinged a little as he moved, but it wasn’t that bad.

His head didn’t even spin as he sat up. Bucky actually felt more rested than he could remember being in a while. He figured it probably had something to do with actually sleeping through the night, rather than being woken up by nurses every three hours.

Steve was asleep on the other couch. Bucky was pleased to see that he too looked more rested than normal.

Bucky actually managed to get up and move around the house a little before waking Steve up. He had to sit down in the shower for a few minutes because he started to get too dizzy, but still. It was an achievement. He had to go into Steve’s room and grab some of his clothes, too. He was still borrowing Steve’s clothes and they were still a little too big for him, but at least they were comfy.

Getting the coffee started was easy enough. Steve had one of those super fancy coffee makers where all you had to do was hit a button, and he could manage that.

While the coffee made itself, Bucky opened up the cupboards and stared at the contents blankly. He tried to talk himself through it like they’d taught him to do in the hospital, but it wasn’t working.

He was going to make breakfast. That meant he’d have to make breakfast food. That meant something like pancakes. Or waffles. Or eggs. No, wait, Steve was allergic to eggs. Not eggs, then. Pancakes, maybe? He could make pancakes. He used to make pancakes every weekend for himself and Rebecca, because Rebecca got up ridiculously early and no one else was awake. The two of them would stand in the kitchen, long before anyone else woke up. They’d put whatever they could find in the kitchen into the pancakes, which often had disastrous consequences. They’d found out the hard way that candy didn’t actually taste all that good when mixed with pancake batter and melted in a pan. Chocolate was great with pancakes, though. Blueberries were too. Strawberries were great on top of the pancake, but not mixed in with the batter. Apple slices were surprisingly good too –

Bucky dragged himself back the present and frowned. The light had changed a little in the kitchen. How long had he been standing there?

Bucky checked his watch. Apparently a full twenty minutes had gone by since he opened the cupboard.

Bucky pushed his messy hair out of his eyes impatiently and tried to refocus on the cupboard, but it was no use. Trying to read the labels on all the boxes and containers was making his headache worse. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember the actual process of making pancakes.

He gave up and just did the coffee. He poured the coffee out into two mugs and carried them both back into the living room. He set one down next to Steve on the coffee table and curled back up on his couch, the morning sun on his face.

He must have fallen asleep again, because Steve was in the kitchen when he woke up the next time. Bucky rolled off the couch and walked sleepily into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

Steve was standing over the stove, but he looked at Bucky and laughed.

“What?”

Steve smiled at him. “Have you seen your hair?”

Bucky went back out to the hallway mirror and stared at his reflection. He must have fallen asleep with his hair still damp from his shower, because now it was sticking out all around his head.

“It’s the latest style,” Bucky protested as he walked back into the kitchen. “People pay money to get their hair to look like this.”

Steve laughed again. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Bucky said. “What are you making?”

“Just pasta,” Steve said. “Thanks for the coffee earlier, by the way.”

“No problem,” Bucky said slowly, trying not to be too obvious as he checked his watch again. It was almost dinner now. Huh.

 

They ate dinner at the table for once, and even the pasta with canned tomato sauce tasted better than the bland hospital food that Bucky had gotten used to. Bucky tried to help Steve study for his upcoming exams after they finished eating, but his headache just kept getting worse and he finally gave up. He washed all the dishes instead, which took him longer than it should have. It took him ages to find which cupboard held each dish after he’d dried it, even though he’d been in Steve’s kitchen numerous times and should have known where everything was.

He fell asleep again an hour later.  

 

Bucky didn’t leave the house at all that week. By contrast, Steve ended up spending more time out of the house than in it. He not only had his final exams coming up soon, but apparently Natasha had also gotten him a job at the martial arts center downtown where she worked.

Steve hadn’t said anything about it, but Bucky knew that the only reason he’d taken this job when he was so busy with school was because of Bucky. Apparently Steve’s mother had managed to completely pay off the house before she passed away, and the life insurance she left behind guaranteed that Steve would have enough money to see him through most of his schooling.

But now Bucky was here, living in Steve’s house and eating his food. Bucky knew how much groceries cost, and how much higher utility bills were with two people living in a house instead of one.

He knew for certain by now that there was no chance of starting work at the bank in January. That job required quick thinking, mental math, critical thinking skills, rapid decision making… all things that Bucky could not currently do, and he didn’t really foresee being able to do it anytime soon.

Steve kept telling him that he wasn’t a burden, and that Steve liked having Bucky staying with him. Bucky knew he wasn’t lying, because Steve was a terrible liar and Bucky could read him like an open book, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

He tried to make himself useful in any way that he could. He couldn’t get a job, even a simple one. He couldn’t stay on his feet for too long without getting dizzy and sick, and he couldn’t be out in bright light for extended periods of time without getting a headache. His ribs still weren’t completely healed, and he couldn’t lift heavy objects until they did so. Reading made his headache worse, and that was only if it was a good day and the words actually made sense to him. He tried to read a page of one of Steve’s textbooks on one particularly bad day, and it took him over two hours to read the single page. That was particularly frustrating for him. He’d always been at the top of his class when he was at university. Schoolwork had always come easy to him. He still had to study hard, of course, but information just stayed in his memory easily.

Now, things slipped away from him like they’d never been there at all. He could learn a fact easily enough, still, but it would be gone in a few minutes. Sometimes he knew that there was something missing, and other times he forgot it completely.

“Steve?” he asked one evening. Steve was sitting at the table, a pile of open textbooks in front of him. Bucky was lying on the couch again, watching tv with the sound off so Steve could concentrate.

“Yeah?”

“What month is it?”

There was a strange hesitation before Steve replied.

“It’s December.”

“Oh,” Bucky said. He sat up abruptly and leaned over the back of the couch to look at Steve. “What are we gonna do for Christmas then?”

Steve looked up from his textbooks and frowned at him. Bucky stared back, confused.

“What?” Bucky asked.

Steve stared at him for another long moment. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me that.”

Bucky scoffed, although his stomach sank. “What, this week? I probably just wasn’t paying attention – “

“No,” Steve said slowly. “This hour.”

“This hour?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “You’ve asked me that three times in the last…” he checked his watch. “42 minutes.”

“Oh,” Bucky said. They stared at each other for a minute before Bucky let himself slide back down onto the couch. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Steve dropped onto the couch next to him a few minutes later. Bucky didn’t lift his head to look at him.

“Hey,” Steve said gently. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay, really.”

Bucky didn’t reply.

“We can do whatever you want for Christmas,” Steve said.

“What do you usually do?” Bucky asked, staring at the ceiling.

“Not much. My mom usually worked on Christmas day, because they paid her twice as much to do it. So we’d have Christmas on Christmas eve instead. We’d just watch movies, drink hot chocolate, go for a walk. That kind of stuff.”

“Let’s do that, then,” Bucky said.

“We don’t have to do all my Christmas stuff,“ Steve protested, but Bucky pushed himself up on the couch. He climbed on top of Steve easily, so that he was straddling him.

“I want to,” Bucky said before he leaned in and kissed Steve.

Steve kissed him back for a moment, and Bucky felt Steve’s body respond beneath him. Steve’s arms wrapped around Bucky’s back for a moment before Steve gently pushed him away.

“What?” Bucky asked.

Steve stared at him calmly. “Not until you’re better.”

“I am better!” Bucky protested. “I’m totally fine.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at him and gently pressed his hand to Bucky’s side. Steve barely even touched him, but Bucky flinched anyway as pain shot through his ribcage.

“See!” Steve said as he gently pushed Bucky off of him. Bucky fell harmlessly back onto the couch and glared at him.

“We can be creative!” Bucky protested again.

Steve laughed. “Nope. I don’t want to hurt you. I can wait.”

“Well, I don’t want to wait,” Bucky said, scowling.

Steve smiled calmly and then crawled over to lie down next to Bucky. They barely fit together on the couch like that, but Bucky didn’t really mind the fact that Steve had to wrap his arms around him.

“Too bad,” Steve said sleepily into Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky sighed. He wanted to protest again, but Steve was very warm and the couch was very comfortable and he was very tired again.

Bucky was asleep again in minutes, the sound of Steve’s quiet breathing lulling him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in updates! It (probably) won't happen again. I got distracted for a few days working on a different fic, but it's posted now and you can go take a look at it if you want. Thanks so much for the comments and kudos guys, love you!


	19. Chapter 19

Bucky was bored.

Bucky was really, really fucking bored.

It was fine when Steve was at home. Even if Steve was just sitting and studying, it was all right. But Steve had seven hour shifts at work now, which meant seven hours of Bucky being alone in the house.

He wasn’t used to it. He was used to being surrounded by people he loved at all times, and he liked it that way. Now he just sat on the couch all day, every day, watching bad reality tv and sleeping.

He’d started doing all the chores around the house. Steve said that the house was cleaner now than he’d ever seen it, which was probably true. Bucky cleaned the whole thing top to bottom every day, mostly just to kill time. Cleaning was simple and Bucky didn’t need to think about it to do it, but there are only so many times you can vacuum a floor in one day.

Steve was staring into the fridge one morning before he left for work.

“We’re out of… everything,” he said finally. “Did you drink _all_ of the chocolate milk that we had?”

“Uh,” Bucky said from where he was sitting on the counter. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick some more up after work. Pass me the list?”

Bucky tossed him the notepad with their grocery list on it. Steve shoved it into his pocket as he pulled his coat on.

“Wait,” Bucky said impulsively. “Let me do it.”

Steve paused halfway through putting his boots on. “Do what?”

“I’ll get the groceries,” Bucky said. “You’re working eight hours today, the least I can do is go get food for dinner.”

Steve looked hesitant. “Are you sure? It’s a twenty minute walk to the grocery store…”

“I can walk, Steve,” Bucky said, a little impatiently. “Come on, give me the list.”

Steve still looked concerned, but he pulled the list out of his pocket and handed it to Bucky. “You’re sure?”

“Yes! I’m twenty-one years old, Steve, I can go buy a few groceries by myself.”

“Yeah, but you also left the stove on _and_ left the tap running last night,” Steve said as he zipped up his jacket.

“I got distracted,” Bucky said with a scowl. “I’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

Steve made a face at him. “All right, all right. You don’t need to get everything on that list, though, it’ll be too heavy to carry back without the car. Just get the stuff for dinner tonight.”

Bucky sighed and conceded to the compromise. “Fine. Go to work.”

Steve still looked doubtful, and Bucky very nearly had to push him out the door.

Bucky genuinely thought it would be fine. It was a quick twenty minute walk, and he could use the fresh air and the exercise. He even counted the cash he had in his pockets twice before he left, just to make sure that he’d have enough. He made sure he had the grocery list in his pocket, and he even double checked that he locked the door before he started walking.

It felt good to be out of the house. It was a cold day, but it was kind of refreshing. Bucky was actually in a pretty good mood, until he reached an intersection and realized he had no idea which way to go.

Bucky forced himself to take a deep breath and look at his surroundings. He was in a quiet suburban neighbourhood, with tree lined streets and cute white houses with picket fences.

He stared at the street signs. He could read them, but that didn’t help at all. He’d lived in this town almost his entire life, and he had no idea where he was.

Eventually, Bucky just picked a direction and kept walking. He figured he’d hit something he recognized soon enough.

He didn’t.

He was pretty sure he ended up going in circles, because he couldn’t get out of that fucking neighbourhood. By then his hands were numb with cold, because apparently he’d also forgotten to bring gloves. His ribs were aching from walking so much, and his head was hurting from being in the sun for so long.

At one point he kicked someone’s fancy stone fence in frustration and ended up hurting his foot, too.

Eventually he got too dizzy to keep walking. He leaned against a random fence and slid down until he was sitting on the sidewalk, the concrete cold underneath him. According to his watch, he’d been walking for almost three hours.

Bucky leaned his head back against the fence and watched his breath condense in the air in front of him.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he sat there for, but he’d lost feeling in his feet too so it must have been a pretty long time.

“Excuse me,” a voice said. Bucky looked up to see a woman standing a little ways away from him, watching him warily. “Are you all right?”

She had her hands on the handle of a stroller, with two small children wrapped up in puffy snowsuits in it. They peered at Bucky curiously as he looked at their mother.

“Yeah,” Bucky said finally. He really was not, even he knew that, but he didn’t want to inconvenience this woman and her children. It wasn’t their fault he was a fucking idiot who couldn’t do something as simple as get groceries.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked. “Because, um, that’s my house over there, and you’ve been sitting here for a while now.”

“Oh,” Bucky said awkwardly. “Sorry.”

He tried to get to his feet, but his head spun again and he dropped back to the ground.

“No, it’s okay,” she said hurriedly. “Look, is there anyone I can call for you?”

Bucky gave up trying to stand. “Steve.”

“Do you have his number?”

Bucky laughed bitterly. “I don’t remember it.”

The woman’s face was gentle. She knelt beside him on the cold pavement. “Where is he right now? Is he at home?”

“At work. He works at the martial arts center.”

“Okay,” the woman said, pulling a phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call there and see if I can get a hold of him.”

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbled. He shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders. He was getting really fucking cold.

Bucky’s mind drifted for a while after that, but suddenly Steve was kneeling in front of him.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. Bucky looked at him miserably.

Bucky couldn’t get on his feet by himself, and Steve had to pull him up. Bucky huddled in the passenger’s seat of Steve’s car with the heat on full while Steve talked to the woman.

Steve finally got into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. Bucky stared out the window, his arms wrapped around himself.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked quietly.

“Fine,” Bucky said sharply.

Steve sighed and started the car.

They didn’t talk for a few minutes as Steve drove, and Bucky closed his eyes.

“What happened?” Steve asked finally. His hands were white from clenching the steering wheel too hard.

“I got lost.”

“How?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “You need a phone. We can get one this weekend – “

“With what money?” Bucky said, more sharply than he intended.

Steve clenched his hands on the steering wheel again. “I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.”

Bucky was very tired, very cold, and suddenly very angry. He knew it wasn’t Steve he was actually mad at, but Steve was unfortunately the closest person in his proximity.

“We won’t fucking figure it out!” Bucky shouted. “You don’t have the money to buy me a goddamn cell phone, Steve, and you shouldn’t have to! I’m a fucking adult, I need to buy my own shit – “

“Well, you’re a fucking adult who just got lost five minutes away from home,” Steve said coldly.

“Fuck you! I didn’t mean to – “

“I know you didn’t,” Steve said, with much more patience than Bucky was feeling. “All I’m saying is that you need a phone so if it happens again – “

“It won’t happen again!”

“You don’t know that, Bucky!”

“And it’s not your responsibility to buy me a phone – “

“I know it’s not,” Steve said, exasperated. They pulled into the driveway, and Steve slammed on the brakes. “And I’m not saying it is. But I’d also rather not have to leave work to come find you – “

“You didn’t have to!” Bucky protested as he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Of course I did!” Steve shouted back. “What was I going to do, let you sit there in the cold until I got off of work?”

“Yes! I’m not your responsibility, Steve. We haven’t even been together for six months, you shouldn’t have to be structuring your whole life around me – “

“I’m not!” Steve said indignantly as he followed Bucky into the house. “I can’t believe we’re having this argument again. I want you here, Bucky. I like having you here! You aren’t a burden –“

“Says the guy who just had to drop everything again to come pick up his boyfriend who couldn’t even walk to the fucking store,” Bucky said as he kicked his boots off.

“Bucky, come on,” Steve said as he shut the door behind him. “Bucky!”

Bucky stormed up the stairs. He’d actually meant to take a hot shower to thaw out his cold hands and feet, but he got too dizzy. He ended up just walking into Steve’s room and lying face down on the bed. Steve didn’t follow him, and Bucky closed his eyes.

 

He heard Steve’s footsteps on the stairs a while later. Bucky was still lying on the bed with his face in the pillows when Steve walked in.

“Hey,” Steve said softly as he climbed onto the bed next to Bucky. Bucky stayed where he was, and Steve finally laid down beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said after a moment.

Bucky groaned into his pillow. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Bucky raised his head to stare blearily at Steve. “Are you _kidding_ me? You’re the one apologizing?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh,” Bucky said, letting his face fall back onto the pillow again. “I was the one being an asshole, Steve. Not you.”

“You were upset.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Bucky said, rolling over so he could see Steve’s face. “That doesn’t mean I can yell at you just because I feel like it.”

“I knew that you didn’t mean it, though,” Steve said calmly.

“Well, still,” Bucky grumbled. He rolled over again so that he was pressed up against Steve’s side. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. Really.”

“Ugh,” Bucky said, his face against Steve’s shoulder.

“What?”

“You’re too nice,” Bucky said. He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at Steve’s face. “It’s annoying.”

Steve laughed. “Sorry.”

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered as he fell back onto the pillows.

Steve laughed again. “I’m not too nice, Bucky, you just haven’t done anything to make me mad. I mean, if you tell me that you somehow ate all of those peanut butter cookies that were in the cupboard, then I might be mad.”

“Uh oh,” Bucky said.

Steve sat upright. “Are you kidding me? You ate all the cookies too?”

Bucky cracked up.

“I’m sorry!” he said between fits of laughter. “I was going to buy more today to replace them before you noticed. “

“I can’t believe this,” Steve said sadly, flopping back onto the bed. “All that trust, all that hope that I would be able to eat an entire box of cookies tonight…”

Bucky started laughing again. “I’ll buy more. I’ll fill the entire kitchen up with peanut butter cookies.”

“Nope,” Steve said. “Not enough. You’ll have to make them yourself. I want homemade peanut butter cookies.”

Bucky laughed and rolled over so he was next to Steve again. “You honestly want me to make cookies? You know I can’t bake to save my life.”

“You can make coffee.”

“Fine,” Bucky conceded as he curled up against Steve again. “I’ll make you coffee every morning for the next two weeks.”

“Three weeks,” Steve said firmly. “Coffee every morning for the next three weeks, to make up for eating all my cookies.”

“Okay,” Bucky said as he closed his eyes again. He was tired, and his hands were finally starting to defrost. He stuck his hands up under Steve’s shirt and pressed them against his skin, ignoring Steve’s protests. Finally warm, he went back to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some drug use in this chapter, just a heads up. It's just prescribed painkillers, but I thought I'd mention it in case anyone is wary of that.

He woke up the next morning with the worst headache he’d had since he left the hospital.

Steve’s alarm clock went off, pulling Bucky out of his comfortable sleep. The beeping of the alarm felt like gunshots going straight through Bucky’s skull.

He felt Steve roll over, and then the beeping mercifully stopped. Bucky didn’t dare move or open his eyes, considering how much it hurt already.

“Bucky,” Steve mumbled. When Bucky didn’t respond, Steve gently shook his shoulder. Bucky gasped as his head moved and pain laced around his eyes. He quickly rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, his hands clutching desperately at his hair.

Steve was talking to him, but even the sound of his quiet voice caused more pain to bloom in his head. Thankfully, Steve left after a moment.

Bucky desperately tried to go back to sleep after that, but it didn’t work. The pain on his head was far too strong for him to even think about sleeping again. All that existed was that fucking headache.

“Bucky,” Steve said after a while. Bucky cracked his eyes open slightly to see Steve kneeling next to him again. “I have to go to work, but Natasha is going to be here any minute, okay? She’ll stay here with you until I get back.”

Bucky couldn’t do anything else but let his eyes slide shut again.

Sure enough, Natasha was standing next to him some time later. She tried to make him take some painkillers, but he knew that he absolutely did not want anything in his stomach right now and refused to take them. She finally gave up and just sat next to him on the bed.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as he lay there, trapped in his own head. By the time night fell again, the pain had abated just enough for Bucky to gratefully slip back into sleep.

 

He woke up in the hospital.

Bucky opened his eyes, only to see the all-too familiar ceiling tiles of the hospital. He immediately tried to sit up, but his arms felt sluggish and then someone pushed him back down.

Bucky looked over, and was relieved to see Steve standing next to him.

“Why am I…. why I am here?” Bucky said, but his mouth felt weird and his words came out slurred.

“Hey,” Steve said. He kept his hand on Bucky’s shoulder so he couldn’t get up, but he smiled. “It’s okay, calm down. You’re just in the ER.”

“Nooo…” Bucky mumbled.

Steve smiled again, and Bucky was pretty sure he heard Natasha’s laugh.

“It’s all right, you’re fine, everyone’s fine,” Steve said reassuringly. “We just brought you here so you could get some better painkillers. How do you feel now?”

“Great,” Bucky said honestly. “So great.”

Okay, that was definitely Natasha laughing. Bucky turned to look at the other side of the bed. Sure enough, Natasha and Clint were sitting on chairs in the corner, snickering.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Bucky asked, offended.

“Because you’re high as a kite,” Clint said.

Bucky considered that. He didn’t think he was high, but whatever painkillers they had him on felt very nice.

“You’re sure you feel all right?” Steve asked. He looked worried. Steve always looked worried. Bucky hated seeing Steve look worried.

“’M great, Stevie,” Bucky said happily. He smiled at Steve, and was happy when Steve smiled back. “My head doesn’t hurt at all.”

“My knee hurts,” Clint complained. “Can I get some of what he’s having?”

“No,” Natasha and Steve said together. Bucky laughed. It was so nice, not being in pain for once. On the other hand, he also couldn’t move properly and he didn’t like that very much.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, because they aren’t letting you take any of this with you when you leave,” Natasha told him.

Bucky frowned suddenly. “Wait…” he said slowly.

Clint, Natasha and Steve all stared at him.

“For what?” Clint said finally.

Bucky blinked. He’d gotten distracted by the flickering light above him. “Oh. How’d I… How’d I get here?”

Natasha gently brushed his hair back from his face. “We brought you in a few hours ago. You don’t remember?”

“Nope,” Bucky said cheerfully.

“You were pretty out of it,” Steve said. “The doctors said you’re okay. They ran scans and everything, but the headache is just from the original injury. They gave you some painkillers to take the edge off for now, though.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. He didn’t mind.

“You threw up in my car again,” Clint said from the corner.

“Well, you had sex with my girlfriend, so…” Bucky said.

Natasha rolled her eyes, and Steve choked on the water he was drinking.

“I did not!” Clint said, scandalized. “The two of you had already broken up!”

“So?” Bucky said.

“So she wasn’t your girlfriend anymore!”

“Eh,” Bucky shrugged. “It was too soon man, it was too soon.”

Clint scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “You said you were fine with it!”

Natasha sighed and picked up the chart at the end of Bucky’s bed to read. “Clint, he’s messing with you.”

“Yep,” Bucky said happily. “Besides, I have Steve now. Wait. Steve? Steve!”

“I’m right here, Bucky,” Steve said. Bucky turned to look at the other side of the bed. Sure enough, Steve was standing there.

“Oh,” Bucky said, relieved.

“I never left, don’t worry,” Steve said.

“Great,” Bucky said, beaming at him. “You’re so great, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve said drily.

Someone pushed the curtain back, and all four of them turned to look. Dr. Jacobsen walked in, staring at the clipboard in his hand.

“Dr. Jacobsen!” Bucky said happily. “Hi.”

Dr. Jacobsen seemed amused. “Hello, Bucky. I would say nice to see all of you again, except I was hoping I wouldn’t see you back here unless it was for checkups.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said. He was pretty sure that Dr. Jacobsen, Steve, and Natasha all sighed in unison.

“It’s all right,” Dr. Jacobsen said. He took the chart from Natasha and glanced it. “Well, Bucky, you certainly are looking better than you did when you came in here. We’ll keep you here for another few hours and then let you go home, all right?”

“Okay,” Bucky said.

“But Bucky… Bucky, look at me.”

Bucky reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the light above him to look back at Dr. Jacobsen.

“Bucky, you can’t keep trying to skip steps here, okay? I understand that it’s very difficult to take things slowly, especially if you’re feeling better. But it’ll pay off in time. You can’t keep overexerting yourself.”

“I’m not!” Bucky protested, but even his medication-addled mind knew that he was lying. “Besides, Steve won’t even have sex with me. I’m not overexerting anything. Look how hot he is, Dr. Jacobsen. This… this is a tragedy.”

Steve groaned, and Natasha and Clint started laughing again.

Dr. Jacobsen seemed to be trying not to smile. “You know what I mean, Bucky. Other than the painkillers, there really isn’t much we can do for you. The best thing for you is rest. If you can’t get that at home, we can re-admit you – “

“No,” Bucky said quickly. “Nope. No. Not. No.”

Clint snickered again.

“Okay,” Dr. Jacobsen said. He kept talking for a while after that, but Bucky got distracted by the colour of Natasha’s hair and forgot to pay attention.

 

Sure enough, they let him go a few hours later. The haze of the painkillers was starting to wear off a little, but Bucky still felt pretty good. He had completely forgotten what it felt like to not be in pain constantly, and he was in a much better mood now that he wasn’t.

He curled up next to Steve in the backseat and slept all the way home.

 

The headache returned later that night, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before. Still, Bucky had no choice but to stay in bed for a few days after that. Even when that particularly debilitating headache lifted, he was too wary of getting another to do much. He reluctantly abandoned his efforts to contribute to the household, and spent most of his day lying on the couch. It was boring, and he felt guilty about sitting around while Steve worked, but he was determined to be relatively functional by Christmas. That meant spending most of his time sleeping, which wasn’t all that hard to do anyway.

Sure enough, his forced bed rest was slowly working. His emotions seemed less out of control, he got less debilitating headaches, and he could now stand up without getting dizzy. He still had a constant headache, but it was gradually getting more manageable. Light and sound didn’t bother him so much anymore, and Steve said that he was forgetting things less often.

Bucky was spending most of his time watching Christmas reality television specials, and he was desperate to decorate their own house. Steve, for some reason, seemed remarkably opposed to it. Every time Bucky brought it up, Steve would change the topic of conversation. Bucky had originally assumed it was just because he was so busy with final exams, but he only had two left to go and both were easy. Steve barely even had to study for them, but he was clearly not interested in Bucky’s elaborate Christmas planning.

“The tree can go over there by the window,” Bucky said one evening from where he was sprawled out on the couch. “Or maybe next to the table? I dunno, where do you want it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said dismissively. He was flipping through Netflix selections, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“No, come on, Steve,” Bucky said eagerly. He gently tossed a pillow at him. “It’s your house, you can decide where the tree goes.”

“Not my house, our house,” Steve said automatically.

“Okay, fine,” Bucky conceded. “But still. Where do you want the tree?”

Steve sighed and put the remote down. “Do we have to get one?”

Bucky stared at him. “Do we have to get a tree?”

“Yes.”

Bucky frowned. “Uh… I mean, not if you don’t want to?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” Steve said impatiently. “Look, are you sure about spending Christmas here with me?”

Bucky stared at him. “Where else would I go?”

Steve shrugged. “Well, not home, obviously, but don’t you want to go see your relatives or something? Maybe see your siblings, as long as your parents aren’t there?”

The last thing Bucky wanted to do was see his relatives, and he was honestly surprised Steve would suggest something like that.

“No,” Bucky said finally. “I don’t. I thought… I mean… I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“I just…” Steve said, still not looking at Bucky. “Okay, look. Christmas was never a big thing for me, I’ve never done anything special for it, I don’t see why that has to change now.”

“Okay…” Bucky said slowly. Steve abruptly got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. Bucky could hear him opening cupboard doors and slamming them shut again. “Steve?”

Bucky got up and hesitantly followed him into the kitchen. “Steve?”

“What,” Steve said flatly. He had pulled a couple of pots out of the cupboard and was throwing ingredients into them.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked finally, leaning in the doorway.

“Nothing’s going on,” Steve said. His voice was uncharacteristically cold.

“Something is,” Bucky said. “Look, if you don’t want to do the whole Christmas thing, that’s fine. I get it. I didn’t mean to push, I just genuinely thought you wanted to do it.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, staring at the stove in front of him instead. Finally, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Look, can we not talk about this now?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said carefully. “Sure.”

He went and sat back down on the couch. Steve came back into the room a few minutes later with a bowl of spaghetti and handed it to him, but then he disappeared back into the kitchen again.

Bucky was washing the dishes when Steve came up behind him. He gently wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist.

“Sorry,” he said into Bucky’s ear. Bucky turned around so that they were facing each other.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Bucky said.

Steve shook his head. “No, I was being a jerk. Look, I want to do Christmas. Tree, decorations, food, the whole thing. I just… my mom and I never really did Christmas, but it was still kind of special, you know? But she’s not here anymore, and I don’t… I don’t know how to do this without her.”

Bucky watched him carefully for a moment, but Steve wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Steve,” he said finally. “We can do it however you want, okay? Whatever’s easiest for you. We can get the most obnoxious Christmas tree we can find, or we can pull a branch off of the plant in the front yard and put it in a pot and put an angel on the top of it. Either way, it’ll be good.”

Steve laughed, even though the smile only graced his face for a moment. “It has to fit in the house, so maybe not a giant one.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said.

Steve gently tightened his arms around Bucky and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know everyone is still super angry about George and everyone wants him to get punched in the face. BUT JUST WAIT GUYS IT'LL BE GOOD TRUST ME. Bucky's parents aren't gone. They'll be back, don't worry.


	21. Chapter 21

“This was a mistake,” Steve said.

“It’ll be worth it!” Bucky protested, even as a pine needle stabbed him in the shoulder.

“There were so many smaller trees,” Steve said sadly. “Okay, lift it now.”

The two of them heaved the tree up onto the roof of Steve’s car.

“But this one was perfect,” Bucky said cheerfully. “All those smaller ones were too dried out, they wouldn’t have lasted even three days.”

Steve stepped back and put his hands on his hips, staring at the tree lying on top of his car. “If this falls off on the way home, I’m blaming you.”

Bucky pulled a handful of bungee cords out of the trunk. “You’re underestimating my bungee-cording abilities.”

Steve gave him a doubtful look, but helped Bucky strap the tree to the car.

It took them twice as long to get home as it normally would’ve. The tree actually made it all the way home, but it took some creative methods to get it through the front door.

They finally got it set up in the corner of the living room. Bucky stepped back and grinned, admiring their achievement.

“See?” he said gleefully to Steve. “Isn’t it awesome?”

“It’s… dropping pine needles all over the floor,” Steve said slowly.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Come on. You have to admit that it looks great.”

Steve finally smiled a little. “All right, all right. It does look… festive.”

Bucky happily leapt over the couch and started opening the plastic bags from the dollar store. “And it’ll look even more ‘festive’ when we get these on it.”

He held up the ornaments they’d bought earlier triumphantly.

It took them a solid two hours to finally get the tree decorated with the lights and the ornaments. To Bucky’s relief, Steve seemed to loosen up a little after a while.

“This is a lot of work for only a few days,” Steve said as he obediently held the string of lights so that Bucky could continue winding it around the tree.

“Well, normally we’d set it up a little earlier,” Bucky said. “But we had to wait until I could look at Christmas lights without getting a headache.”

“That’s true,” Steve said. “And you’re absolutely sure you want to have Christmas on the 24th?”

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly as he finished with the lights.

“Even though it’s not technically Christmas?”

Bucky shrugged. “Who cares? It’s your Christmas, so that’s when we’re doing it. Besides, that means that Clint and Natasha can come and still do Christmas with their families on the 25th.”

Steve paused as he finished plugging in the lights. “Clint and Natasha said yes?”

“Yep,” Bucky said cheerfully. “Although they’re refusing to cook, but said they would chip in if we ordered pizza.”

Steve looked scandalized. “You can’t order pizza for Christmas!”

“Thought you’d never done Christmas before.”

“Well, I haven’t, but if we’d had the money and the time my mom always said that she would have made us a fancy five course meal.”

“Well, we don’t really have the money now either,” Bucky said. “We’ve been eating instant noodles for the last week.”

Steve frowned. “We could make an instant noodle five course meal.”

Bucky laughed as he carefully placed more ornaments on the tree. “Ah, yes, a delicious instant noodle salad to start.”

“An instant noodle soup next.”

“Instant noodles on toasted bread.”

“Instant noodle casserole for the main course.”

“And,” Bucky said as he hung the last ornament. “Instant noodle cake for dessert.”

Steve was laughing. “Sounds like a perfect meal.”

“Okay, how about this,” Bucky said. “I convince Natasha and Clint to bring dessert, and we do the actual meal. If we skip lunch for the next few days we can afford it.”

Steve smiled happily at him. “Deal.”

 

Steve actually seemed to be coming around to the whole Christmas thing. He helped Bucky decorate the whole house, he got the ingredients for Christmas dinner, and he even listened to Christmas music of his own accord. Bucky had a feeling that Steve’s initial aversion to the holiday came from the absence of his mother.

Steve didn’t talk about his mother often. Or at all, really. Bucky didn’t want to push, but it had also been a very short time since she’d passed away. Bucky had been hoping that Steve would want to talk about it at some point, but so far he hadn’t. Bucky didn’t even know much about her, or about what had really happened. He knew that Steve’s mother had been very sick for a long time, and that she’d passed away peacefully. He knew that the other room on the second floor of the house had been her bedroom, and that Steve kept the door to it firmly closed at all times. Steve had never said anything about it, but Bucky knew that it was a bit of an unspoken rule that he shouldn’t go in there. And so he never had.

Bucky had thought that talking about Steve’s old Christmas traditions might get Steve to talk about his mom a little more, but that really hadn’t happened either.

He tried bringing it up one morning while Steve was shovelling the snow off the driveway. Bucky had gotten a headache that morning, and so Steve had forbidden him from helping with the shovelling. Bucky was, instead, lying in the snowbank staring up at the sky.

“Steve?”

Steve tossed another shovelful of snow into the snowbank. “Yeah?”

“You know if you ever want to talk to me about your mom, you can, right?”

Steve paused. He leaned on the handle of the shovel, staring at the driveway in front of him. “Why’d you bring that up?”

Bucky shrugged, inadvertently burrowing deeper into the snowbank. “I was just thinking about it. Because it’s your first Christmas without her, you know?”

Steve frowned. “I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” Bucky said hurriedly. “You don’t have to. I just… I wanted to make sure you knew that you could.”

Steve started shovelling again. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bucky didn’t know what else to say, so he fell silent and let the snowflakes start to gently cover him in a soft blanket of snow.

A few minutes later, he tried again. He was kind of hoping that if he offered up something, Steve would do the same.

“I bought them Christmas presents,” he said, still staring at the sky.

Steve stopped shovelling. “Who?”

“My siblings. I bought them presents.”

“Oh,” Steve said slowly. “Are you going to give them the presents?”

Bucky ran his gloves over the top of the snow slowly. “I don’t really know. I want to, but I obviously can’t go over there. It seems weird to mail them, though.”

“I can go instead,” Steve said, a little too hopefully.

Bucky scowled at him. “No. If you go over there, you’ll just punch my dad in the face.”

Steve tried to look offended, but failed. “I would not.”

“You definitely would,” Bucky muttered.

Steve finally gave up the pretense. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Yes,” Bucky insisted. “Just leave it, Steve. It’s done. I have no plans of ever interacting with him again. It’s over.”

The look on Steve’s face clearly showed that he disagreed, but Bucky knew that he’d respect his wishes.

“What about Natasha?” Steve said after a minute. “She could drop off the presents for you.”

“That’s true,” Bucky said slowly. “My siblings like her, they’d be happy to see her.”

Bucky called Natasha later that evening, and she dropped by immediately. Bucky gave her the presents, which had taken him two hours to wrap perfectly. Natasha took them over to his family’s house, and she texted Bucky later to tell him that it had gone fine.

It was the 23rd of December, and Bucky was nearly buzzing with excitement that evening.

“I am not going to bed now,” Steve said as Bucky tried to drag him upstairs. “It’s way too early.”

“The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner Christmas begins,” Bucky told him solemnly.

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Jesus, you’re like a little kid about this. It’s not that exciting.”

“It’s SO exciting,” Bucky said, grinning. “Trust me, it’ll be awesome. Christmas is great.”

Steve sighed and let Bucky pull him towards the stairs. “It’s not all that special, Bucky.”

Bucky abruptly turned around so that they were facing each other. “Steve…”

Steve frowned, taken aback by the suddenly serious look on Bucky’s face. “What?”

Bucky sighed. “Look, Steve, this is my first Christmas without my family too, all right? I’m just… it’s going to be different, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be good.”

Steve watched him for a moment, but his face softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Steve studied him for a moment longer. “No, come on. Let’s go upstairs. Let’s wake up at six and get started on those presents.”

Bucky stared at him in horror. “Six? That’s… that’s a little early…”

“Nope,” Steve said with a grin. “It’s great. We can watch the sun rise as we open presents.”

“Steve…” Bucky said, but Steve was already pushing him up the stairs and laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: more Christmas fluff. everything will be great.   
> After that: the moment you've all been waiting for


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some short NSFW stuff in this chapter.

By some stroke of luck, Bucky woke up at 5:54 in the morning. It was still dark outside, and Bucky could hear the waves hitting the shore softly down on the beach.

Steve had carefully set his alarm clock for six, despite Bucky’s protests. Now, Bucky carefully reached over him to turn the clock off.

Bucky considered just going back to sleep. Steve had a ridiculous number of blankets piled on top of his bed, and Bucky had probably never been this comfortable in his entire life.

Or.

_Or._

Bucky carefully rolled back over and swung his legs over Steve’s hips, so that he was straddling him. He started by kissing his way down the side of Steve’s jaw and down his neck. Steve stirred sleepily, and Bucky braced his arms on either side of Steve’s shoulders as he started moving down Steve’s chest.

“Bucky?” Steve said sleepily as Bucky reached his hips. Steve propped himself up on his elbows, blinking slowly.

Bucky paused and looked up at him, grinning.

“Merry Christmas,” Bucky said, and pulled Steve’s boxers down.

“Bucky – “ Steve started to say, but his next words were cut off by Bucky taking the head of Steve’s dick into his mouth.

Bucky gently ran his hands over Steve’s hips and thighs as he moved. He was definitely glad that they lived in their own house and didn’t have close neighbours, because Steve was certainly not quiet.

When Steve came a few minutes later, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face. Steve was staring at him with look of complete and total rapture as Bucky crawled his way back up to the pillows.

“Good morning,” Bucky said cheerfully. Steve laughed breathlessly.

When Steve reached for him, Bucky scrambled out of his reach.

“Come back,” Steve said desperately.

“Nope,” Bucky said from across the room as he pulled a hoodie and sweatpants on. “It’s Christmas. You’re the one who wanted to wake up this early.”

Steve groaned and threw a pillow at him, which Bucky neatly dodged. “I didn’t expect to wake up like that, though.”

Bucky shrugged and tossed one of Steve’s hoodies onto the bed. “Nope. We can go back to bed later. It’s Christmas.”

“You coming back to bed can be my Christmas present,” Steve said, smiling winningly at Bucky.

“I’m going downstairs without you,” Bucky called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

He laughed as he heard Steve swearing and struggling to get out of the pile of blankets, and a distinctive thump as Steve fell on the floor.

Bucky made it all the way to the bottom of the stairs before Steve caught up to him. Bucky had stopped on the bottom step, and was staring at the living room with wide eyes.

When Bucky had gone to bed, there’s been a few decorations in the house. Some lights and ornaments on the tree, a few wreaths, and a little reindeer statue on the table.

Now, there were Christmas lights _everywhere._ Around every window, every doorframe, and even around a few pictures frames. There were icicle lights draped over the couches, and flashing colourful lights wrapped around the table. Each chair was covered in tinsel, and there were even paper snowflakes taped to all the windows.

It was ridiculously cheesy and over the top. Bucky loved it.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said as Steve walked down the stairs behind him. “Did you do all this?”

“Yeah,” Steve said hesitantly. “I know I was being awful about the whole Christmas thing, and I wanted to try and make up for it. I might have gone a little overboard.”

Bucky laughed and jumped off the step, sliding in his sock feet into the living room. “No way. No fucking way. Where’s the camera, I need to take a picture of all of this.”

After Bucky had finally taken enough pictures of the decorations, Steve finally managed to drag him over to the tree for presents. Obviously there were only a few presents under the tree, considering it was just the two of them, but both Steve and Bucky had put a considerable amount of time into concealing the contents of each present from one another.

“Okay, you open yours first,” Bucky said, holding it out to him.

Steve carefully took it and studied it for a moment before he carefully pulled the wrapping paper off. His eyes widened.

“Bucky, how much did this cost?” Steve asked, running his hand over the top of the box.

Bucky sighed and flopped back on the couch. “Don’t worry about it. Natasha helped me out. I’m gonna pay her back when I can.”

Steve was still staring at the box. “Can I open it?”

Bucky laughed. “Are you serious? Of course you can.”

Steve carefully set the box on the coffee table and opened it. He pulled out one of the paintbrushes, staring at it.

“Bucky, this must have cost so much,” Steve said. “These are top of the line.”

“I know, what’s why I picked them,” Bucky said impatiently. “You can’t tell me that you don’t miss painting.”

Steve was taking the rest of the paintbrushes out of the box and setting them carefully on the table. “I do, I do.  But…”

“Steve.”

Steve finally smiled. “Thank you, Bucky. Here, the first thing I paint with these will be whatever you choose.”

Bucky thought about it. “Do a portrait of me. An actual portrait, one of those ones that they hang in museums.”

Steve laughed. “With the seventeenth century outfit and everything?”

“Yes. With a crown or maybe a ridiculous hat.”

“Okay. I’ll make it big enough that we can hang it over the fireplace.”

Bucky nodded sagely. “That’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. I don’t even need to open my present, I’ll just sit here until my portrait is done and that’ll be my present.”

Steve laughed. “No way. If you don’t open your present, I’m not painting you a ridiculous portrait.”

“Fine,” Bucky said as he pulled the wrapping paper off of his present.

Underneath the wrapping paper was a plain cardboard box. Bucky opened it to find several pieces of paper.

Frowning, Bucky lifted the sheets of paper out of the box and glanced over them before he realized what they were.

“Steve…” he said slowly, still staring at the paper.

“You don’t have to,” Steve said hurriedly. “It’s... okay, let me explain.”

Bucky was still staring at the pieces of paper in his hand.

“Okay, so, I didn’t find out about this until after my mom passed away,” Steve said quickly. “But apparently in her will she set aside a portion of money for me, separate from the stuff for the house and everything. She always used to say that she wanted to go somewhere warm and sunny and tropical for a vacation, but we could never afford it and we never had the time to go. So apparently she had been putting money in a special fund, and she’d left a letter saying that she wanted me to use this money to go on a trip. And her dream vacation was to Hawaii, so that’s what I picked. There was enough money for two tickets, and so I just went ahead and planned it… but if you don’t want to go, it’s totally fine. I’ll understand. I can just cancel the other ticket. It’s not until February, so if you need to think about it there’s time –“

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted. “Steve.”

Steve finally stopped talking and took a breath.

“Do you honestly think,” Bucky said slowly. “That I wouldn’t want to go on a trip to Hawaii with you?”

Steve was still watching him anxiously. “Well, I mean, I just... I wasn’t sure…”

“Of course I want to go!” Bucky said. “This is fucking awesome, Steve.”

Steve’s face finally broke out into a relieved smile. “Really?”

“Yes! Holy fuck, I’m so excited. Which island are we going to? Where are we staying?”

Steve pulled up the pictures of the hotel on his laptop, and Bucky nearly tackled him onto the couch in his haste to see.

 

They spent most of the day trying to make the dinner. The first two tries went terribly wrong, and the third attempt only succeeded thanks to several youtube tutorials on how to cook a turkey.

“This is gonna have to do,” Steve said, staring at the turkey. He was sitting on the floor in front of the oven, watching the turkey cooking inside of it. “We do not have the money for a fourth turkey.”

“We should have done dessert and let Clint and Natasha bring the actual food,” Bucky grumbled as he finished making the salad.

Steve sighed and got up. He carefully took the turkey out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. “My mom always made cooking look so easy.”

“Hey, my salad is going to be great,” Bucky said.

The doorbell rang, and Steve went to answer it. Bucky was still stirring the salad when Clint and Natasha walked in.

“This stupid cake took us all fucking day,” Clint announced as he walked into the kitchen. He was carrying a large Tupperware container that contained the cake in question.

“Are you serious? Do you know how long a turkey takes to cook?” Bucky said indignantly.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to actually make the turkey,” Natasha said as she followed Clint into the kitchen. “You just put it in the oven.”

“It’s definitely not that simple,” Steve called from the door.

“Woah,” Clint said, peering around the doorway into the living room. “Did you guys know that Christmas apparently exploded in your living room?”

“I went a little overboard on decorations,” Steve admitted.

“It’s awesome,” Bucky said proudly.

Somehow, they actually managed to cobble together a pretty good dinner. Even the turkey turned out all right.

“I dropped your presents off,” Natasha said casually through a mouthful of salad.

Bucky looked up from his plate. “And?”

“And what?”

“Did you see them?” Bucky asked impatiently.

Natasha nodded. “Your dad wasn’t there, but I saw Grace and Rebecca.”

“How are they?” Bucky asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

Natasha shrugged. “They seemed fine. They were happy to see me. Asked about you a lot, though.”

Bucky frowned. “Did you see Ethan?”

“Nope,” she said. “I asked, but apparently he has chicken pox?”

Bucky’s hand tightened on his fork. “Oh.”

“That’s too bad,” Steve said, calmly reaching over to wrap his hand around Bucky’s. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Buck. Kids recover from that quickly.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said distantly.

He forced himself to smile and talk through the rest of the dinner. They watched some random Christmas movie that Natasha had picked after they finished eating, and then Clint and Natasha went home.

Steve fell asleep early, sprawled out on their bed with his face on his laptop keyboard. He’d been showing Bucky all of the things they could do on their trip to Hawaii, and Bucky had lain beside him and let him talk.

Now, though, Bucky carefully moved Steve’s laptop to the nightstand and turned the lights off, pulling the blankets up over Steve.

Bucky sat up for hours after that. He watched the ocean crash onto the shore outside of the window.

He finally made a decision around three in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE DELAY AGAIN. I AM THE WORST I KNOW


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for violence in this chapter.

Bucky waited until the 26th of December. He picked that day for two reasons.

The first reason was that Steve was going to visit his grandmother on that day. He was planning on staying the night at her place so that he wouldn’t have to drive home on the snowy roads at night. Bucky would be home by himself for almost a full 24 hours.

The second reason was that he knew that his father was never home on the 26th of December. That was the day that George Barnes went to see his brother, and he never brought the rest of the family with him. That meant that Bucky’s sisters, brother, and mother would be home that day as well.

He didn’t tell Steve about his plans.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted Steve’s help with this, and he knew that Steve would be upset that Bucky had done this without him. But he also knew that Steve would quite literally die to protect him, and Bucky could never take that risk.

Bucky Barnes was a good liar, and so Steve left that morning none the wiser.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Steve asked anxiously as he pulled his boots on. “I don’t have to go – “

“Steve,” Bucky said calmly. “I can manage by myself for one day. I’ll be fine.”

“All right,” Steve said doubtfully. “But you’ll call me if anything happens, right?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you just get a headache, call me, okay?”

“Yes,” Bucky said impatiently. “Isn’t your grandmother expecting you by noon?”

Steve looked at his watch. “Shit.”

Bucky hustled him out of the door. He waved as Steve backed the car down the driveway, and hurried back inside. He shut the door against the cold, leaning back against it. The silence of the house was already pushing down on him.

Bucky wandered around the house for the rest of the day, trying to find something to do and also to build up the courage to leave the house. He cleaned the kitchen and the dishes, and also vacuumed the living room. He left all the Christmas decorations up, and just cleaned around them. He fixed the latch on the back door that kept creaking, and repaired the broken leg on one of the chairs.

It was seven in the evening when Bucky finally left. He pulled his boots on and zipped his coat up, his hands already feeling cold despite the warmth of the house. He locked the door behind him as he left, hunching his shoulders against the chill of the evening.

He felt strangely calm as he walked, even though he was going back to the house that he’d promised Steve he would never set foot in again. He didn’t exactly have a plan, either. He’d long since discarded any elaborate fantasies he’d had of being the dramatic hero, sweeping in to save his family from his evil father. He knew better than to expect that. He had no concrete plan, no solid idea of how to handle this. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand by while his little brother took the brunt of their father’s anger because Bucky wasn’t there to protect him from it. It wasn’t fair to Ethan. It wasn’t fair to Bucky, either. He knew that, of course. His thinking wasn’t as distorted as Steve seemed to believe it was. But that didn’t change the fact that Bucky had gotten out, and his siblings hadn’t.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to get there. It wasn’t a long walk, and Bucky was moving pretty quickly.

His stomach turned as he started up his old street. It was a quiet night, with most of the houses dark and closed up. Most people had left town for the holidays, off to visit relatives somewhere less cold and cloudy.

The lights were on in his house, though. Bucky slowed as he walked up to it, frowning slightly. His mother’s car was parked on the driveway, which was odd. She always kept it in the garage and never left it sitting out.

The curtains were all tightly closed, but Bucky could see light shining from behind them. He reassured himself that his father would not be there, and walked right up to the door.

Bucky knew where the key to the front door was hidden, but he knocked anyway. It seemed strange to just walk into a place where he no longer lived.

He heard the familiar scrabbling of small feet running to the door.

“Grace!” his mother’s voice shouted. “Grace, do not open that door!”

It was too late, because Grace had already yanked the door open. She stood on the doorstep for a moment, her eyes wide. She stared up at Bucky before shrieking and jumping at him. Bucky caught her easily.

Grace wrapped her small arms around his neck and buried her face in his collar. Bucky carefully stepped into the house just as his mother ran into the hallway.

“Grace – “ she started to say, before she saw Bucky. She froze, her face pale.

“Hi, Mom,” Bucky said awkwardly.

“Bucky,” she said quietly.

That was when Bucky noticed the bags strewn across the hallway. His mother held a duffel bag in one hand, and what looked like one of Rebecca’s shirts in the other.

“Bucky?” Rebecca’s voice shouted from upstairs. She ran down the stairs, her face lightening up when she saw him. She skidded into him and threw her arms around his waist.

Bucky wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, but he was staring at his mother.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, looking at the suitcases piled in the hallway.

Winifred Barnes bit her lip, her face still pale.

“We have three hours until he gets back,” she said finally. “I’ve… I’ve got almost everything packed…”

Bucky carefully set Grace back down and peeled Rebecca’s arms off of him.

“Okay,” he said finally.

Winifred looked like she wanted to say something else, but Bucky was already moving. He grabbed the car keys from the hall table and picked up a suitcase with his other hand. He went back out to the car, unlocking it and tossing the suitcase into the trunk.

His mother met him at the door with two more suitcases, and Bucky ferried them out to the car. Rebecca and Grace watched from the living room, their coats and shoes already on.

Bucky and Winifred were trying to get one of the last suitcases zipped up when Rebecca yelled.

“Bucky!” she called from the living room. The shrill sound of her voice made both Winifred and Bucky pause.

Bucky ran back out to the living room, and saw the distinctive flash of headlights pulling into the driveway.

He turned around. His mother’s face was white, and her hands were frozen on the suitcase’s handle.

“Leave it,” Bucky said sharply. “Get Ethan.”

Winifred jumped back to her feet and ran for the stairs. Bucky grabbed Grace and Rebecca’s hands and pulled them off the couch.

“Get in the car,” he told them calmly. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

Grace reached for him, but Rebecca grabbed her hands and ran out the door. Bucky followed them through the door just as his father’s car pulled up the driveway.

Rebecca pulled the car door open and pushed Grace in. She shut the door after her as she climbed in too.

“Lock it,” Bucky called. Rebecca hit the child locks on the door, and she and Grace pressed their faces against the window.

Winfired ran out the front door just as George Barnes climbed out of his car. She was pulling Ethan behind her. Bucky wasn’t surprised to see a familiar pattern of bruises down the side of Ethan’s face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” George yelled at Bucky, slamming his car door.

Bucky ignored him and grabbed Ethan from Winifred. He motioned for Rebecca to unlock the door again.

Rebecca pushed it open, and Bucky lifted Ethan into the backseat. Grace and Rebecca scrambled to get out of the way so that Ethan could get in.

“Winnie, what the hell?” George shouted. “What are you doing?”

Winifred’s breaths were coming in short gasps, but she was at least moving quickly. She opened the door to the driver’s seat and reached in, starting the engine. Once the car was started, she ran around Bucky and slammed the trunk shut.

Once Ethan was safely in the car, Bucky turned around just as George shoved him against the car. Bucky’s back slammed against the cold metal, and he fell forward onto his knees.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking, Winnie,” George was shouting at Winifred. “But you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to let you take my kids.”

Winifred had jumped backward when Bucky had hit the car, but she ran forward now. George reached into the backseat and grabbed Ethan’s legs, dragging him forcefully out of the car. Ethan screamed and kicked out at him, but his ten-year-old legs were no match for George’s strength.

Rebecca lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s shoulders, trying to pull him back. All that happened was that she was dragged out of the car and onto the snowy driveway with him.

Winifred was still trying to pull George’s hands off of Ethan, but George slammed his elbow into her face and she fell backward. Grace screamed at that.

Bucky crawled underneath Winifred’s legs as George threw her back against the car, finally ripping her hands off of Ethan. Bucky stumbled to his feet again once he was around the car. He dropped to his knees in front of the bushes next to the driveway, blindly reaching into the snow-covered branches. His hands groped for the baseball bat that Ethan had carelessly tossed into those bushes a few months prior.

Bucky’s hands closed around the hard metal, and he got to his feet again.

He walked back around the car. George was holding Winifred against the car by her neck, and his other hand was clenched in Ethan’s hair. Ethan was futilely trying to hit George’s legs, and Rebecca was hanging half out of the car kicking at him.

Bucky didn’t hesitate as he walked up behind George and swung the baseball bat as hard as he could.

It hit over the top of George’s shoulders, hard enough that George lost his grip on both Winifred and Ethan and fell against the car with a scream. Winifred dove out of the way and grabbed Ethan.

George turned around and tried to stand again, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. He swung a fist at Bucky, but Bucky brought his baseball bat down on George’s ribs and was rewarded with a satisfying crack.

“You fucking ba – “ George started to say before Bucky dropped the baseball bat and punched George in the jaw. George dropped to the ground. Bucky slammed his knee into his stomach, leaving it there as he hit George’s face again and again.

Time blurred, and Bucky’s vision was tinged with red. His hands were red too, but that was from the blood.

Suddenly there were arms around him, and he was being pulled off of George. Bucky struggled wildly for a moment before he recognized the voice.

“Stop, stop,” his neighbour was saying. “Bucky, stop. It’s okay.”

Bucky finally sucked in a gasp of air and stopped struggling. Mr. Hendrickson from down the street kept his arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s chest and shoulders, repeating the same words over and over.

Bucky blinked, his vision slowly returning to normal. Mrs. Hendrickson had Grace in her arms, and was wrapping the other one around Bucky’s mother.

Bucky didn’t look at George, but the absence of his voice spoke volumes on its own.

The sound of police sirens reached Bucky’s ears eventually. There were suddenly people everywhere, although Mr. Hendrickson kept his arms on Bucky’s shoulders as they sat on the cold cement. There were people in uniforms surrounding him, but Mr. Henrickson was yelling something insistently. The uniforms moved away, and then a blanket was being wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders and people were shining lights in his eyes. Bucky scowled at them and flinched away.

At some point he was in a car, and then he was sitting on a hard plastic chair in a cold room. He blinked at the man sitting across the table from him. The man was clearly a police officer, but his face was kind and he didn’t seem angry.

Bucky’s gaze drifted away from the man’s face and down to his own hands, which were covered in now-drying blood.

“Do you want to tell me your side of the story?” the man asked gently. Bucky slowly looked up at him.

“Yes,” Bucky said finally.

He talked for a while. He knew his voice was flat and empty, but he was saying what he need to say and the man was nodding so that was probably okay.

They moved him to another chair after a while. He was in a bigger room this time, with people walking everywhere and some just hunched in chairs, closed in on themselves.

Winifred was sitting next to him, her face pale and her eyes red. Grace was curled in her lap, apparently asleep. Rebecca and Ethan were sitting next to her, leaning against each other.

Bucky was slumped in his chair, his hands resting loosely on his knees. They’d finally let him wash the blood off, but Bucky could still see some of it under his nails.

Winifred reached over at some point and curled her thin hand around Bucky’s. She squeezed it tightly, but Bucky couldn’t find the energy to squeeze back.

When Bucky looked up again, Natasha was standing in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and he knew her well enough to know that she was furious.

Bucky blinked tiredly at her.

“You – “ Natasha started to say before she cut herself off. “I get a call from my friend down at this station, and he tells me that – “

“There’s blood under my nails,” Bucky said. That confused him. He didn’t even know why he’d said that.

Natasha’s face changed slightly. She reached out and gently ran her hands through Bucky’s hair, tilting his head up.

“Is your head okay?” she asked, frowning now. “You didn’t hit it again?”

“Don’t think so,” Bucky said. His voice was still flat.

Natasha talked to Winifred for a minute, but Bucky didn’t hear what she said. He was very tired.

Natasha started to walk away, then, and Bucky called after her.

“Nat?” he said slowly.

She paused and looked back. “I already called him,” she said softly. “He’s on his way.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. He looked down at his hands again.

 

Bucky stared at the grey linoleum on the floor in front of him. Someone brought him a coffee at some point, and he didn’t even taste it as he drank it down.

Steve suddenly knelt down into Bucky’s line of vision. Bucky looked up at him.

Steve was frowning, and his face was pale. He didn’t look as angry as Bucky had expected, though.

“Bucky?” Steve said softly. His eyes were scanning Bucky’s face worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled. He shifted and got to his feet. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He suddenly took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky. Bucky was still tense, but he let his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?” Steve said into his ear.

“Yes,” Bucky said.

Steve kept one arm tightly around Bucky’s shoulders, and started to pull him over towards the desks.

“You just have to sign a few more things and then we can leave,” Steve said.

Grace’s shriek suddenly echoed through the police station. Bucky turned around just in time to see her scramble off of Winifred’s lap and run at him full speed. Grace locked her arms around him tightly, even as Winifred tried to gently pull her off.

“Bucky, no!” Grace said tearfully. “Don’t leave again, don’t!”

Bucky’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion and his head was starting to pound, but he reached down and lifted her into his arms carefully. She locked her arms around his neck again, clinging to him desperately.

Bucky looked at Steve. Steve looked exhausted too.

“They can all stay with us for tonight,” Steve said softly.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “Come on, the sooner you sign all of this, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Bucky signed the forms that the police officer pointed to, and then a few more officers came to escort them all outside.

Steve’s car was badly parked just outside the doors. Bucky tried to settle Grace into the backseat, but she shrieked until Bucky sighed and got into the backseat with her. Ethan and Rebecca climbed in after him, Ethan pressing up against Bucky’s side.

Steve helped Winifred into the passenger’s seat without a word.

The car was silent as Steve got in and started the engine.

“Nat’s going to meet us at home,” Steve said. Nobody said anything in response.

Bucky leaned his head against the cool window as Steve pulled out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me at cameronwolfe.tumblr.com


	24. Chapter 24

The drive home was thankfully very short. Grace stayed curled in Bucky’s arms the whole way, and Steve didn’t even protest their lack of seatbelts.

Natasha was leaning against her car when they pulled into the driveway. Steve turned the car off, and Natasha helped Rebecca and Ethan out of the backseat. Grace still wouldn’t let go of Bucky, and so he had to awkwardly climb out of the car with her clinging to him like a monkey.

Nobody spoke as they all filed inside. Ethan and Rebecca looked exhausted, and Grace was nearly asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.

“So,” Natasha said once they were all in the house. “Who wants a midnight snack?”

There was quiet for a moment, before Rebecca finally spoke up.

“Me,” she said softly.

Natasha smiled at her. “Great. Come on, let’s see what we can find in the kitchen. Ethan, you can’t tell me you aren’t hungry. I’ve seen you eat. You’re always hungry.”

Ethan smiled a little, although he still pressed himself to Bucky’s side. “I’m a little hungry.”

“I knew it,” Natasha said. “Steve, you got anything in this kitchen that’s good for a midnight snack?”

“Uh,” Steve said slowly. “Not really? We pretty much only have cereal.”

“I like cereal,” Rebecca said.

“Cereal is great,” Natasha affirmed. “Come on, guys. Grace, do you want any?”

Grace looked sleepily at her.

“Come on,” Natasha said gently. “Grace, why don’t you come eat with us for a few minutes. Bucky’s going to go take a shower and then he’ll be right back, okay?”

Bucky stared blankly at Natasha, but Winifred slowly moved in front of him.

“Come on, Gracie,” she said softly. “They probably have that cereal with the marshmallows in it that you like so much.”

“We do,” Steve said. “Top shelf on the right.”

Natasha disappeared into the kitchen, with Ethan and Rebecca slowly following her. Grace finally let go of Bucky’s neck and let Winifred pull her into her arms.

“Bucky?” Steve asked as Bucky stared after them.

Bucky slowly turned to look at him. “I’m going to go take a shower,” he said mechanically.

He made his way up the stairs, going straight into the washroom and closing the door behind him. He turned the shower on and carefully pulled his shirt off as he waited for the water to heat up.

Bucky caught a glimpse of his back in the mirror as he leaned against the counter, and he craned his neck to look. Sure enough, dark bruises were already blooming over his shoulders and spine from where he’d hit the car.

He turned back around and woodenly pulled the rest of his clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He stepped under the spray of hot water, closing his eyes as it rushed over his skin. He breathed in the steam rising around him, finally managed to take what felt like his first real breath in hours.

Buck wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but it must have been a while because someone had left him some fresh clothes on the counter by the time he got out. He hadn’t even noticed that someone was in the room with him.

He’d managed to get all of the blood out from under his nails, but he still didn’t feel clean enough. The only reason he’d gotten out of the shower was because the relentless hot water had started to make him dizzy.

Bucky dried himself off and pulled the new clothes on. He stepped out into the hallway, and blinked in surprise. The door to Steve’s mother’s room was open, and people were moving around inside.

Bucky cautiously walked down the hall and paused in the doorway. The room was larger than Steve’s, with several wide windows and a slanted ceiling. The walls were painted a light lavender, and the furniture was white and slightly faded. Paintings hung on every available surface, and there was even a full art easel in the corner.

The large bed had clearly been neatly made, but Steve was now carelessly pulling the throw pillows off of it and setting them in a chair in the corner. Rebecca and Grace were already curled up together on the bed, clearly almost asleep. Ethan sat next to them, waiting for Steve to move the throw pillows out of the way so he could get under the covers.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly from the doorway. Steve glanced up at him as he moved the last of the pillows. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Absolutely.”

Ethan crawled under the blankets and pulled them up so that only his head was exposed. Bucky noticed the way that he carefully positioned himself on his side, so that the bruises down one side of his face wouldn’t be pressing into the pillow. Ethan’s eyes closed almost immediately.

Steve quietly walked around the bed, turning the lamps off as he went. He stopped next to Bucky in the doorway.

“This is your mom’s room, though,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve shrugged. “Bucky, my mom would have wanted her room to be put to good use. She would have thrown a fit if she saw me make a bunch of children sleep on the floor just so her empty bed could be nicely made up.”

“Okay,” Bucky said softly. He wanted to argue more, but he was suddenly very tired.

Bucky turned to step out of the room, but Rebecca’s quiet voice suddenly sounded from beneath the blankets.

“Bucky?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Are you leaving?”

Bucky sighed and stepped back into the room. “No. I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Rebecca watched him from over Grace’s shoulder, but her eyes were also growing heavy again. “You promise?”

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly. “Try and get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Rebecca said, and yawned. Bucky and Steve stepped back out of the room, turning the lights off as they went. They left the bedroom door open so that the light from the hallway would get in.

Bucky leaned against the wall once they were in the hallway, running his hands through his damp hair.

Steve leaned next to him, watching him carefully. “You doing okay?”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Just tired.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Natasha’s setting your mom up on the couch downstairs. I need to go get the dishes cleaned up and everything, but do you just want to go to bed?”

“Kind of,” Bucky admitted.

“Okay. Go on, I’ll be there in a little while.”

“Steve, I’m sorry – “

“No,” Steve said abruptly. He turned so that they were facing each other. “No apologizing. Not tonight, okay? Just get some rest.”

Bucky sighed and leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder for a moment. “Love you.”

Steve rested his head against Bucky’s own before gently pulling away. “Love you too.”

Steve went back downstairs, and Bucky wandered into their bedroom. He sat on the bed for a moment, staring blankly at the wall before getting up again.

He tried to make it down the stairs, but Natasha was standing at the bottom with her arms folded.

“Bed,” she said, pointing back upstairs. “You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” Bucky said obediently. He started to go back upstairs, but stopped and turned around again. “Nat?”

She watched him from the hallway below. “Yeah?”

“Is he dead?”

Natasha’s face softened slightly, and she finally uncrossed her arms. “No.”

Bucky didn’t feel any kind of emotional reaction to that, except the extreme tiredness he was already experiencing.

“He’s in the hospital,” Natasha continued. “But they’re only keeping him there until he’s stable enough to transport. He’s going straight back to the station when he’s well enough, and then they’ll be prosecuting from there. He’s not getting out. He’s not getting out ever, if I have anything to say about it.”

Bucky didn’t know what else to say. “Okay,” he said finally. “Thanks.”

Bucky turned and headed upstairs again. This time he climbed all the way into bed, pulling the blankets over top of him. The exhaustion dragged him down almost immediately.

 

It was only a little after 1 in the morning when Bucky woke up again. The house was quiet, and the room was dark. Steve was asleep next to him, sprawled out on his back.

Bucky wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He couldn’t have been asleep for very long. An hour, at the very most.

Well, he wasn’t sure what had woken him up until he noticed the shaking.

Bucky was trembling. Badly. His whole body was shivering painfully, like he had been shaking when Steve had pulled him out of the ocean before. Only this time there was no freezing ocean water, just the warmth and safety of the room.

Bucky curled in on himself, forcing himself to keep breathing. The trembling wouldn’t stop, though, and Bucky couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped his lips.

Steve, of course, woke up immediately.

“Bucky?” he asked sleepily, rolling over and forcing his eyes open.

Bucky tried to answer, but he couldn’t make his jaw work. He clenched his arms tighter around himself.

“Bucky,” Steve said worriedly. Steve gently reached out and pulled him closer. Bucky gratefully pressed himself again Steve, the warmth of his body driving away some of the strange cold that Bucky was feeling. Steve pulled the blankets over him again, nearly climbing on top of Bucky in an effort to warm him up.

“I’m okay,” Bucky tried to say, but the effect was ruined by the chattering of his teeth.

“I think you’re in shock,” Steve said worriedly. “Or coming out of it? I don’t know. Do you want me to go get Natasha? She’ll know what to do – “

“No,” Bucky said firmly. He pulled Steve closer to him. “Just… just stay like this.”

“Okay,” Steve said, although he sounded unconvinced.

Bucky closed his eyes and waited it out. He was safe here, in Steve’s house. His family was safe. His friends were safe. He was warm and comfortable and he was safe.

Sure enough, the shaking stopped after a while. Bucky found himself falling asleep again almost immediately, worn out and exhausted to the bone.

He woke up again at 3:30, this time by the sound of Ethan screaming Bucky’s name. Bucky’s eyes flew open immediately, and he scrambled out from under Steve and into the hallway.

Bucky turned on the light as he went into the other bedroom. Ethan was sitting bolt upright in the bed, his eyes wide and terrified. Rebecca and Grace were somehow still soundly asleep next to him.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, leaning against the doorframe as he tried to catch his breath.

Steve stumbled into the hallway behind him, but Bucky waved him off. Steve watched him warily, but slowly went back into their bedroom.

Ethan was looking at him with huge eyes. “I… I had a bad dream. And then I didn’t know where I was when I woke up and you weren’t here – “

“Okay,” Bucky said tiredly. He rubbed at his face. “You know where you are now?”

“Your house?” Ethan asked slowly.

“Yep,” Bucky said. “I’m right down the hall. Steve’s here, and Mom’s downstairs. Natasha’s here too.”

Ethan didn’t look comforted.

“This is probably the safest house in the world,” Bucky said. “Nobody’s getting past Steve and Natasha, okay?”

“Okay,” Ethan said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Bucky sighed. “Move over.”

Ethan obediently crawled over to the center of the bed, next to Grace. Bucky climbed up onto the bed in the space he’d just vacated and lay down, pulling the blanket over him.

“Can you go back to sleep now?” Bucky said, half into the pillow.

“Yeah,” Ethan said. He snuggled down next to Grace, carefully making sure his bruises didn’t touch the pillow again.

Bucky waited until Ethan was sound asleep again before he let himself drift back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to mention again how grateful I am for all of your lovely comments and messages. I know I probably say this a lot, but it really does mean so much to me. I try to reply to as many comments as I can, but even if I don't reply to yours please know that I read it and loved it and it 100% made my day. Seriously, every time somebody leaves a nice comment I do a ridiculously enthusiastic dance around my house until one of my roommates tells me to stop. I appreciate each and every one of them. Each and every kudos, too.


	25. Chapter 25

When Bucky woke up, he glanced desperately at the alarm clock. He was hoping it was at least 9 am.

Nope. 6:03 am.

Bucky groaned and opened his eyes, trying to figure out what had woken him up this time. He rubbed at his tired eyes, glancing around the room.

Rebecca was watching him from the other side of the bed, lying on her stomach with her head propped up on her hands.

“Hi,” she said when Bucky looked at her.

Bucky sighed and rubbed at his eyes again. “Hi.”

“It’s morning,” Rebecca said calmly.

“So it is,” Bucky muttered. He slowly pushed himself up, wincing as his bruised muscles protested.

Ethan and Grace were still asleep next to him, but the sun was starting to creep softly through the windows.

Bucky slowly got up, pausing to pull the blankets back over Ethan and Grace. He stumbled back out into the hallway, Rebecca walking close behind him.

“Can we make pancakes?” Rebecca whispered as they passed the door to Steve and Bucky’s bedroom. Steve was still asleep in the bed inside the room, and Bucky paused for a moment to look at him fondly.

“If we can find enough ingredients,” Bucky told her quietly as they went down the stairs.

His mother was asleep on the couch, stretched out under one of the huge blankets that Steve kept around the house. Natasha was curled up in one of the armchairs, her head resting on her arm as she slept.

Bucky grabbed one of the other blankets from the shelf and draped it over Natasha. It was a sign of how tired she was that she didn’t even stir as Bucky tucked it over her shoulders.

Rebecca was watching him from the doorway to the kitchen. Bucky motioned for her to be quiet and then joined her.

They managed to find pancake mix at the back of the cupboard, and even some strawberries in the fridge. The pancakes ended up being a little burned and the strawberries were kind of mushy, but Bucky and Rebecca managed to make a full tray of them anyway.

Ethan wandered into the kitchen when the smell of pancakes started to drift through the house, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He climbed up next to Rebecca, who was sitting on the countertop. The two of them carefully placed strawberries on each pancake that Bucky tossed onto the plates.

By the time that everyone else woke up (at a more reasonable time), there were plates of pancakes waiting for them in the kitchen. All of the kids were fed by the time that Natasha and Winifred woke up, and they all took their plates back to the kitchen so that the adults could all eat.

Bucky didn’t join Winifred and Natasha for breakfast. He focused on cleaning up the kitchen again until Steve physically took the dishrag out of his hands.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve ordered. “You look exhausted.”

“I didn’t see you complaining when you were eating your pancakes,” Bucky said.

“Well, they were pretty good pancakes,” Steve said. He held the dishtowel out of Bucky’s reach.

“We helped,” Rebecca said eagerly. She and Ethan were sitting on the counter again, drying each dish as Bucky passed it to them. Grace was carefully placing the dishes back into the cupboards.

“That’s probably why they were so good,” Steve told her. “Bucky can’t cook that well unless you guys are here to help.”

Bucky protested as Ethan and Rebecca laughed. “I’m a great cook!”

“You burned ramen!” Steve said, hiding the dishtowel behind his back as Bucky grabbed for it. “Who burns ramen?”

“I don’t know how that happened,” Bucky said. “I make great pancakes though.”

“He does,” Ethan told Steve solemnly. “We haven’t had any pancakes since Bucky left. Me and Rebecca tried to make them one morning but it didn’t work.”

“Ethan can’t flip pancakes,” Rebecca said.

Bucky pointed at them with the spatula he was cleaning. “See?”

“All right,” Steve allowed. “You can cook pancakes. I’m still not letting you wash the dishes, though. You made breakfast, that means I do the dishes.”

Bucky finally gave up and dried his soapy hands. He settled for lifting Grace up so she could put the glasses away in the higher cupboards.

Grace was shrieking with laughter as Bucky pretended to drop her once she’d set each glass on the shelf. He caught her before she fell more than an inch, but she howled with laughter every time. Once Bucky set her down, he looked up to see Winifred standing in the door frame. She was watching them with a sad smile, her eyes dark and shadowed.

Bucky turned away from her, lifting Rebecca off the counter and then helping Ethan jump down.

“Thanks for your help,” Steve told them.

“You’re welcome,” all three kids said at the same time.

“You guys want to watch something on the tv for a little while?” Steve asked. “We’ve got Netflix.”

Ethan cheered and ran into the living room, with Rebecca and Grace scrambling after him. Bucky could hear them arguing over which movie to watch as the tv turned on.

“You wanna take a nap?” Steve asked Bucky quietly.

Bucky ran his hands through his hair. “Maybe? But I should…”

“They’ll be fine,” Steve said calmly as he dried the last plate. “You look terrible.”

“Hey,” Bucky protested weakly, but he didn’t deny it. He was pretty sure the dark circles under his eyes were even worse than Steve’s.

Steve flicked water at him from the sink. “Go.”

Bucky sighed and tossed another dishtowel at him before heading for the stairs. His eyes were closing even as he walked into the bedroom, and he was asleep the moment his face hit the pillow.

 

The house was quiet when he woke up again. The clock told him that it was 2 pm.

Bucky slowly made his way downstairs, frowning at the stillness of the living room. He paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“They went to the movie theatre,” Winifred said.

Bucky jumped. He hadn’t even seen her sitting at the table.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “Steve and Nat took them?”

“Yes,” Winifred said. Her hands were clasped around a mug of coffee on the table in front of her, but she still looked tired. “The kids wanted to wake you up, but Steve told them to let you sleep. They’ll be back pretty soon.”

“Oh,” Bucky said again.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some,” Winifred continued.

“Thanks,” Bucky said awkwardly. He hastily walked into the kitchen, mostly to escape her gaze. He poured himself a cup and wandered back out to the living room. He kind of wanted to just go upstairs again and sit in the bedroom, but Winifred stopped him.

“Bucky,” she said as he made a beeline for the stairs. “Come sit with me?”

Bucky gritted his teeth and slowly turned around. He walked over to the table and set his coffee down on it, but he couldn’t make himself sit in the chair. He leaned against the cabinet behind the table instead, his arms crossed.

Winifred frowned, but seemed to accept that this was the best she would get. She set her mug back down on the table and watched him.

“Are you okay?” she asked finally.

Bucky clenched his jaw again. “I’m fine.”

Winifred looked down at her coffee mug now, apparently unable to meet his gaze. “I’m glad. Um, thank you for letting us stay here. With you and Steve.”

Bucky watched her for a moment before he shrugged. “It’s fine. You can stay as long as you want. Steve doesn’t mind.”

“He seems wonderful,” Winifred offered.

“He is,” Bucky said.

They stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment longer before Bucky pushed himself away from the cabinet and started to walk away.

“Bucky,” Winifred said desperately. “Bucky.”

Bucky turned around again, crossing his arms. He stared at her defiantly.

“I’ve found a new place,” Winifred said, a little frantically. She stretched her hand out to him on the table. “It’s just around the corner from the kids’ school. It’s a little smaller than our old house, but there’s three bedrooms and the kitchen is renovated. The landlord said we can move in next month.”

“Great,” Bucky said shortly. “I’m happy for you.”

This time, Bucky made it all the way to the stairs before he turned around again. He paused with his foot on the bottom step.

“Chicken pox?” he said. “Didn’t that excuse wear thin a few years ago?”

Winifred dropped her eyes to the table. Her shoulders sagged, and she suddenly looked much older and much more tired. “Gets him out of a school for a week or longer.”

Bucky laughed shortly. “Oh, okay. What’s wrong with the traditional ‘fell down the stairs’ or ‘got hurt playing baseball’?”

Winifred closed her eyes. “Bucky…”

Bucky laughed again. He was being awful, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “What? I’m just saying, those always worked for me. Except for that one teacher, what was her name? Miss Daniel? The one kept asking those questions about how I got that black eye that one time? Remember, you ended up making me transfer schools because of her – “

“Bucky,” Winifred interrupted.

Bucky rubbed at his eyes again. “Sorry, sorry. It’s been a little hard to control my emotions ever since I got my head cracked open, remember?”

Winifred gasped and covered her face with her hands. Bucky shook his head and turned towards the door, intending to go for a walk. He put his boots and his coat on, and he even walked outside before he turned around.

Bucky stormed back into the house, barely pausing to kick his boots at the wall. “No, you know what? I have just one question. I just need you to answer one question for me.”

Winifred looked at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Why Ethan?” Bucky asked, slamming his hand on the table in front of her. Winifred jumped, and Bucky immediately pulled his hand back. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

“Why Ethan?” Bucky repeated in a calmer voice. “Why Ethan, and not me?”

Winifred stared at the table in front of her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Bucky shook his head. “Yes you do. You were leaving. You were leaving him.”

“Yes.”

“Why now? After all this time, after all this years, why fucking now? Ethan got hurt, what, once? Twice, maybe? Since I moved out. And that was enough for you to finally pack up and go?”

Winifred was staring at him now, a horrified look on her face. “Bucky, no, it’s not like that – “

“Then what’s it like? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like me getting knocked around all my life wasn’t enough to make you leave, but the minute he laid a hand on Ethan, you were on your way out the front door – “

“No!” Winifred shouted back. She pushed her chair away from the table, getting to her feet. “Bucky, no! How could you even think that?”

“What am I supposed to think?” Bucky asked, disbelief colouring his words. He walked over to the couch and dropped onto it, spreading his arms out over the back of the couch. “I’m all ears. Tell me what I’m supposed to think.”

Winifred wrapped her arms around herself. “Bucky… oh my god, Bucky, please tell me you don’t think that.”

Bucky snorted and raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“It’s not like that,” Winifred said again, her voice quieter this time. “It was never… it’s not that… it’s not that I care more about Ethan than you, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky muttered.

“It’s not,” Winifred insisted. She sank onto the couch opposite him, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. “Bucky, I… I finally had a way out, you see? I finally had a chance.”

“What, you didn’t have a chance to leave him that time he threw me over the bannister?” Bucky asked, his hands clenching again. “Remember that? I landed on the hall table and broke my wrist so badly that they had to do surgery to repair it.”

Winifred’s face had turned white. “Of course I remember that.”

“How old was I then?” Bucky asked. “Fourteen? I think I was fourteen. That was right after he caught me kissing that guy from down the street when we were hiding in the treehouse. He was so angry, remember?”

“Yes,” Winifred said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think I don’t know all this? Do you think I don’t lie awake at night, thinking about everything that’s happened?”

“Yes, kind of,” Bucky said bluntly.

Winifred shook her head. “I remember all of it, Bucky. It kills me, thinking about what I could have done.”

“Lot of good that does now.”

“I know,” Winifred said. “But, Bucky, you have to understand…”

Bucky waited, staring her down. Winifred didn’t meet his eyes.

“If I could change this all, I would,” Winifred said, resting her elbows on her knees and letting her head fall into her hands. “I was fifteen, Bucky. I was fifteen when I had you. I dropped right out of school. And your dad was there, with all his promises and stories of how we’d raise you together and be this wonderful happy family. And he stayed, Bucky! He finished high school and got a job. He bought us a house, he came home to you and me every night. I had no family, no friends after I had you. All I had was him. When you were old enough to go to school, I tried to go back to work, but no one would hire a young mother with no work experience and no high school degree. George was fine with it, he said he’d rather I raise you then drop you off at daycare or preschool. So I stayed home, just me and you. Remember that?”

“No,” Bucky said honestly.

“It was good,” Winifred said, her head in her hands. “I was happy, Bucky. George kept getting promoted, we had food on the table, a nice house. And you were so wonderful, Bucky. You were so happy and healthy and everyone you talked to instantly fell in love with you. You were the best part of my life. And he loved you too, Bucky.”

Bucky scoffed.

“He did,” Winifred insisted. “He’d come home every day and you’d run out the door to meet him and you’d jump into his arms. He’d play with you every night while I made dinner, and then three of us would eat dinner together. And then that company went under and he couldn’t get another job, do you remember that?”

“No.”

Winfred sat up and wrapped her arms around her chest again. “Bucky, I’m not… I’m not trying to justify this to you, okay?”

Bucky stared impassively at her.

Winifred took a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t expect you to understand. I just... I just need you to see… it only started then. When we lost the money and the drinking started and the gambling happened. It started so slowly, Bucky. The first time I ever saw it was when you knocked your juice off the table and it fell onto the carpet. He was so angry, he was so unbelievably angry, and he slapped you. I was crying and yelling at him, and then he started crying too and apologizing and blaming the alcohol but you… you didn’t make a sound. The whole time, you didn’t make a sound. I think, now, that he’d done if before when I wasn’t there to see and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it before then. And then it just kept happening, over little things like that. He’d just explode, take it all out on you. I tried, Bucky. I tried so hard, but every time I got in his way he just got angrier. He’d yell at me to get out of the way, and then when I wouldn’t he’d just get more furious. Like… like that one time…”

Winifred broke off, her face growing pale again. “That time… with the frying pan.”

“I remember,” Bucky said shortly. He didn’t know the details, but his fuzzy childhood memory was of his father hitting his mother in the face with a frying pan so hard that she hadn’t gotten up for three hours, because she’d moved in front of Bucky. Bucky remembered sitting next to her on the kitchen floor, waiting for her to wake up even as blood dripped down his own face. “But that wasn’t meant for you.”

Winifred laughed brokenly. “Nope. He was aiming for you, and I stepped in front of you and he was so mad, he was the angriest I’d ever seen. And after that I just… I still tried, Bucky. I tried to redirect him, to stop him before it got too bad, but usually he’d calm down if…”

“If what?” Bucky asked flatly “If I just took it? Didn’t fight back?”

The tears were spilling down Winifred’s face now. “Yes. It… oh god, Bucky. It broke my heart, it killed me inside to have to hold an ice pack to your head with one hand while I made him dinner with the other hand.”

“Why not then?” Bucky asked. “Why didn’t you go then?”

Winifred shook her head. “By the time it got bad, by the time it got really bad, I was pregnant with the twins. Where was I going to go, Bucky? I had no money, no health insurance, no house, no job, no friends. All I had was him and you. I didn’t even have my own bank account, Bucky. It was all his. The alternative was running, just taking you and running, but we’d be on the streets and I was pregnant with two more babies. I was young and scared and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have gone,” Bucky said.

“Yes,” Winifred said simply. “I should have. I had the twins, and I was hoping that things would get better for a while. That George would be happy with the new kids around to distract him, to make things better. Brighter.”

Bucky laughed shortly.

Winifred shook her head. “I know. The screaming… God, he hated the sound of the babies crying. I used to sleep out in the car with them, even in the winter so that the crying wouldn’t wake George up. His temper just got worse with them around.”

“Never touched them, though.”

“No,” Winifred said sadly. “Every time the crying got to be too much, he’d pin you against the door and then yell at me to make them be quiet. If I wasn’t fast enough, he’d hold you by the throat.”

“I remember,” Bucky said again.

“And by the time they were older, Gracie was there,” Winifred said. “That’s when…”

“When it got really bad.”

“You loved her so much,” Winifred said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And you were older, then, and you would fight him back when he hit you and then he’d just get angrier and angrier. And he threatened them, Bucky. It’s not… it’s not fair, at all, and I hate myself for it and I will always hate myself for it, but… “

Bucky waited.

Winifred started to cry now, the sobs coming in short gasps. “You were strong, Bucky. You were tall and strong and you could…”

“Could what? Take it?”

“Yes,” Winifred said desperately. “As much as anyone can take that kind of… that kind of abuse. The others were too little, Bucky. George would threaten them, he’d threaten to kill them, and you’d jump in front of them and yell and scream and kick and he’d hit you instead. He’d hit you instead of hurting them and I let it happen.”

“Mom…” Bucky said uncomfortably.

“No,” Winifred said firmly. She covered her mouth in a vain attempt to disguise her sobs. “Don’t… don’t excuse me. Don’t excuse my actions. I let him hurt you because I was scared of him hurting me. I was scared of him hurting my babies who couldn’t even walk, let alone protect themselves. And when he hurt me, Bucky, when he…”

“He didn’t,” Bucky said with a frown. “He didn’t hurt you. He never did.”

Winifred smiled sadly at him. “Not often, Bucky. But there were times, there were times that I was afraid he’d kill you, so I’d stop him, I’d get in between you two…”

“I don’t remember,” Bucky said slowly. “I don’t remember that.”

Winifred shook her head. “I’m glad. I’d tell you to take Gracie and the twins and stay in your room, and you would.”

“Oh,” Bucky said.

Winifred shook her head again, more forcefully this time. “But it wasn’t… it wasn’t often. And there was nothing I could do when… when he got mad at you about the boys.”

Bucky laughed shortly. “’The boys’. You make it sound like I was running a prostitution ring. I had what, one boyfriend and two girlfriends in the whole time that I lived there?”

“One was enough,” Winifred said sadly. “I’d never seem him that angry. Still haven’t. And I… after that fight happened, after your first boyfriend, I got my own bank account. I got that job down at the store, and I told George that I was making less than I really was. It wasn’t much, but I was putting enough away every month. And it was better when you went away to college, Bucky. George had that new job and he was spending most of his time there. We were barely together as a family, what with the kids in school and me working too. But then he got demoted, and you graduated, and then…”

“Then it all went to hell again?”

Winifred laughed shortly through her tears. “Yes. I guess you could say that. But I finally had enough, Bucky. I had enough money to go. I was looking at places to rent, looking at new schools for the kids. I barely had enough for a month’s rent, but it was something. And then I came home one day and there was blood all over the carpet and you were gone and George was locked in the bedroom. I finally found Rebecca and Ethan and Grace hiding upstairs in your closet, and it took me two hours to convince them to tell me what had happened. I tried, Bucky, I tried to come see you but George wouldn’t let me go. When I finally convinced him, he insisted on coming, and then…”

“Then Steve punched him in the face outside of my hospital room,” Bucky said, his tone a little too proud.

Winifred smiled again, albeit a little shakily. “Yes. And then he came home from work one day and hit Ethan in the head, for no reason that I could see. I started packing the night, and then… well, you were there, then. But Bucky, I want, no, I _need_ you to see that me leaving wasn’t just because of Ethan. Ethan was part of it, of course, but it was for all of us. For you, for me, for Rebecca and Gracie. I saw a chance, Bucky, and I had to take it. I wish I could have done it earlier. I wish I _had_ done it earlier. I’m sorry for that, I’m so sorry for that, and I don’t ever want you to forgive me for it. I’ll never forgive myself for it, and you shouldn’t either. It’s not your fault, any of this, it’s not.”

Bucky stared at the coffee table between them. “Are you going back? To him?”

“No,” Winifred said firmly. “No. The new house, the new place I got… it’s just for us. Me, Ethan, Grace, Rebecca, and… and you, if you ever want to come.”

“I’m staying with Steve.”

“I know,” Winifred said quickly. “And that’s okay. But if you ever want to, there will be a bed for you and a place at the table. Always. And Natasha… Natasha’s helping me get… get a restraining order. He’s… Natasha said he’s going to be in jail, for a really long time, but I’m getting it anyway.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, his voice sounding distant to him. “Well. Uh, that’s good.”

Winifred fell silent for a moment, watching him carefully. “Bucky…”

Bucky stared at the table.

Winifred cleared her throat and tried again. “Bucky, I just… I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’ll understand if you don’t want me to be part of your life anymore. I’ll respect your wishes, whatever they may be. But please, Bucky, I just need you to know that I love you. I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved anything. I… I need to make sure you know that.”

Bucky blinked, slowly. He was tired again. He was so tired of being this exhausted. “Okay.”

Winifred sighed, but Bucky was saved by the sound of the door opening. Ethan and Rebecca bounced in, struggling to pull their snowboots off their feet. Grace was clinging to Steve’s back, giggling, and Natasha was trying to pull her boots off.

“Hey,” Steve said as Natasha finally wrestled Grace off of him. “How was your nap?”

Bucky stared at him blankly. “Uh… fine.”

Steve’s face fell, and he exchanged a glance with Natasha.

“Anybody want hot chocolate?” Natasha asked, already leading the way into the kitchen. “Steve, you guys better have hot chocolate.”

“Cupboard next to the fridge,” Steve said, still staring at Bucky worriedly.

Bucky was so tired of people looking at him worriedly. Especially Steve.

Winifred was still watching him, but when Bucky didn’t look at her she slowly got to her feet. She walked into the kitchen, and Bucky heard Grace eagerly telling her about the movie they’d seen.

Steve came to sit next to him on the couch.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

Bucky was still staring at the table in front of him, but he made himself speak.

“No,” he said finally.

“Anything I can do?”

“No,” Bucky said again. “But thanks for asking.”

Steve leaned against him as they sat there. Bucky closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Steve breathing, until Natasha forced a mug of hot chocolate into his hands and Grace jumped up onto the couch next to him.


	26. Chapter 26

“There’s officially no groceries left,” Natasha announced from the kitchen after everyone had finished their hot chocolate. “It’s either going to be pizza for dinner again, or we’re going to have to go pick some groceries up.”

“Pizza!” Ethan and Rebecca shouted from the table.

“You guys have had way too much pizza lately,” Winifred admonished. “We’ll go get some stuff for dinner, okay? Maybe a nice salad – “

“Noooo,” Grace said softly, but Winifred was already taking the kids’ coats off the hangers and distributing them around.

“I can drive,” Steve offered, getting to his feet from where he still had been sitting next to Bucky on the couch.

“No,” Winifred and Natasha said at the same time.

Winifred smiled at Steve as she helped Grace put her coat on. “You two have already done so much for us. At least let me handle dinner.”

Steve frowned, but reluctantly sat down on the couch again. Natasha reappeared from the kitchen while brandishing her car keys, and the five of them all disappeared out the door.

The house was strangely quiet with them gone. Bucky was still sitting on the couch, his hands holding the mug of rapidly-cooling hot chocolate.

“I have to shovel the driveway,” Steve said. “Wanna help?”

“Okay,” Bucky said. He still felt weird, in a way that he couldn’t identify. He wasn’t upset anymore, exactly, but he wasn’t in the same state of numbness that he’d been in before. He was just… distant.

Bucky left his hot chocolate on the kitchen counter and followed Steve outside, barely taking the time to put his boots and coat on. Steve had already started work on the pathway leading up to the front door, and so Bucky trudged through the snowbanks to grab the other shovel.

The snow was heavy and the air was cold, but it was a sunny day for once. Bucky took a few deep breaths of the crisp air as he shoveled. Each biting breath did nothing to dispel the weird unsettled feeling in his chest.

It didn’t take them long to clear the snow off the driveway, and Bucky triumphantly tossed his shovel into the snowbank when he finished. Steve was still working on a few more piles of snow up by the house.

Bucky walked over to him and grabbed the shovel out of Steve’s hands.

“Bucky – “ Steve said, but Bucky tossed the shovel to the side. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders and shoved him back against the house, pushing his body against Steve’s as their mouths met.

Steve pulled him closer, and Bucky let go of his coat to run his hands through Steve’s hair.

Abruptly, Steve broke off and gently pushed Bucky back.

“Bucky…” he said softly, his hands still on Bucky’s shoulders.

“What?” Bucky asked. “Come on, they won’t be back for an hour.”

“No, I know,” Steve said, still catching his breath. “It’s just – “

“Just what?” Bucky asked, exasperated.

“I don’t think now is a good time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned forward again, pressing his lips to the side of Steve’s jaw. He worked his way down Steve’s neck as Steve’s hands closed on his shoulders again.

Steve let out a low moan as Bucky kissed his collarbone, but he still carefully pushed Bucky back.

“Not now, Buck,” he said firmly.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes again. “Steve, I know you want to fuck me. You can’t tell me that you don’t.”

Steve scowled at him now. “It’s not that I don’t want to!”

“Then what is it?"

“I just…” Steve said slowly. He was frowning, the frustration evident in his words. “I feel like you keep trying to pay me back with sex.”

Bucky stared at him. “What?”

Steve shrugged, still frowning. “That’s just what it seems like.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bucky said, the anger coming suddenly in his words.

Steve stared stubbornly at him. “Look, every time something bad happens and you start talking about how much of a burden you are, you also start trying to have sex all the time and you don’t let me reciprocate!”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

Steve sighed and rubbed at his face. “I don’t… look, Bucky, I don’t want to have sex with you if you’re just doing it because you think you owe me – “

“I’m not!” Bucky said, horrified. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because that’s what it feels like!” Steve shouted. “You don’t owe me anything, Bucky, that’s not what a relationship is! I’m helping you and your family because I care about you and I care about them, that’s all! You don’t owe me anything for that – “

“I know that!”

“I don’t think you do!” Steve said. “You hate having people help you, I get that! But you don’t always have to do everything by yourself.”

“I know!” Bucky shouted back.

Steve was still shouting. “No you don’t! Because you keep doing it, and you make everything worse by not asking for help. Do you know what it felt like, answering my phone and having Natasha telling me that you and your family were down at the police station because you almost killed your dad? Do you know how scared I was? I don’t even know how many speed limits I broke trying to get back here. Why didn’t you just ask us for help, Bucky?”

Bucky stared at him. He had no idea how this conversation had gotten so out of control. “He could have killed you, Steve! I would never put your life at risk like that!”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “What about your life, Bucky? You’re willing to risk your own life, but not mine?”

“Uh,” Bucky said. The answer to that was yes, but he doubted Steve would respond well to that.

“Jesus,” Steve said, apparently understanding Bucky’s answer anyway. “Fucking hell, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry!” Bucky said desperately. He stepped forward, but Steve turned and started walking into the house. “Steve!”

Bucky ran into the house after him, catching the door as it started to swing shut behind Steve.

“Steve!” he said again. Steve was kicking his boots off, but he just threw his coat onto the hallway table.

Bucky grabbed his shoulder, but Steve shrugged him off.

“What do you want me to say?” Bucky asked desperately. “I’m sorry, okay! I won’t do it again!”

Steve sighed and turned around. “Do what, Bucky?”

Bucky stared at him, wide-eyed. “All of it?”

Steve closed his eyes. “See, you don’t get it! You don’t fucking get it, Bucky! You keep saying that you’ll stop hiding things from me, you keep saying that you’ll actually be honest about everything for once, but nothing changes and shit like this keeps happening! You could have died, Bucky! Again! And honestly, I don’t trust you to not do it again. I’m on edge all the fucking time, because I keep wondering if you’re okay and if you’re lying about actually being okay and it’s just fucking exhausting.”

He started up the stairs, and Bucky scrambled to get his boots off so he could follow him.

Bucky caught up to him in the upstairs hallway. “Steve, come on! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  

Steve turned around, running his hands through his hair. “Bucky, I… look, this is a bad time for you, I get it, okay? Everything is pretty horrible. I understand that. I just… I just need a minute, okay? Just give me a goddamn minute.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, but his voice cracked. “Steve…”

Steve walked into his mother’s room and shut the door behind him. Bucky stared at the closed door, his hands shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHORT CHAPTER SHORT CHAPTER I'M SORRY. it's the end of term so I have a fuck ton of stuff to do, sorry sorry sorry! also if you follow me on tumblr, you'll know that I was absolutely DESTROYED by this week's episode of The Walking Dead and I've been crying ever since and it's very distracting


	27. Chapter 27

Bucky leaned against the wall in the hallway and slowly slid down it so he was sitting on the floor. He wasn’t there for long before he heard Natasha’s car pull back into the driveway.

He heard laughter from downstairs as the front door opened and his siblings ran back inside. Natasha and Winifred were chatting as they carried grocery bags into the house, and Ethan and Rebecca were already arguing over the tv remote.

Bucky leaned his head back against the wall and stared at nothing.

A few minutes later, tentative footsteps on the stairs told him that Winifred was on her way. Bucky didn’t bother moving his head, but he slid his eyes over to look at her as she appeared at the top of the stairs.

She frowned when she saw him sitting on the floor, clearly taking in the firmly closed door he was sitting in front of.

“Bucky?” she asked softly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said.

Winifred looked like she wanted to say something else, but she hesitated and Bucky let his gaze slide back to the wall in front of him.

“I’m going to get dinner started,” she said after a moment. “I’ll, uh, let you know when it’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said flatly. Winifred went back downstairs after another long moment.

Bucky finally forced himself to take a deep breath, drawing his knees into his chest. He rested his head on his knees for a moment before climbing to his feet.

He walked over to closed door, pausing in front of it. He knocked tentatively, as quietly as he could.

“Steve?” he said softly. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause.

“Yeah,” Steve said finally. Bucky pushed the door open slowly.

Steve was sitting on the floor in the corner, on top of a soft carpet that looked hand-woven. He had a stack of photos in his hand, and was flipping through them.

“Hey,” Bucky said carefully. He sat down on the carpet and leaned his back against the dresser.

“Hey,” Steve said back, but he didn’t look up from his photos.

Bucky watched him for a moment. “What are you looking at?”

Steve still didn’t look up. “Some old pictures. Didn’t even know they were here. Found ‘em in the nightstand drawer.”

“Can I see?” Bucky asked.

Steve finally looked up and held the pictures out. Bucky took them and started flipping through.  

“This is you?” he said after a moment.

“Yeah.”

“You were kind of a funny looking kid,” Bucky said, sneaking a glance at Steve to make sure he knew that he was kidding.

Steve smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. I was really scrawny for a while.”

The photos were all of Steve and a woman who had to be Steve’s mother. She was thin, with Steve’s blue eyes and his smile. Her hair was a lighter blond than his, but they were unmistakably similar. Most of the pictures were of Steve as a child. Many of them were taken on the beach just down the steps from the house they were in now, with Steve squinting at the camera, his hand held up in a wave. The few pictures of Steve and his mother were at what looked like Steve’s birthday parties, her thin arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

“Your mom was really beautiful,” Bucky said softly.

“Yeah,” Steve said again. His voice was sad. “I wish you could have met her, Bucky. She would have liked you.”

“I wish I could have met her too,” Bucky said.

He was still flipping through the photos when Steve spoke again.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Bucky said. He handed the photos back to Steve. “I deserved it. Steve, I just… I don’t meant to lie to you about things like that, okay? I don’t mean to keep things from you.”

“I know,” Steve said, but Bucky kept going.

“I’m, I’m not used to… to sharing shit like that, right? I’m used to doing things on my own. I still don’t really know how to rely on someone. And I don’t want to make you worry.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “You make me worry more when you lie and say everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”

Bucky laughed shortly. “All right, that’s fair. I’m sorry, Steve. I… I’m going try to do better, okay?”

Steve smiled at him, although his face still looked a little sad. “Okay. I’m still sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said easily. “I probably need someone to yell at me every once in a while, you know? Keep me in line – “

“No,” Steve said firmly. Bucky blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “No you don’t, Bucky.”

Bucky stared at him, and Steve’s gaze softened.

Steve was about to say something else, but Rebecca’s voice shouted from downstairs.

“Steve! Bucky! Dinner’s ready! Ow, Ethan, get off me, ouch!”

Both of them climbed to their feet, and Steve carefully set the photos back down on the nightstand before they went downstairs.

 

Winifred still had another week until she got the keys to their new house, and Steve assured her that they could stay until then. The logistics of starting a life anew went far beyond a place to stay, though.

They hadn’t taken anything with them when they left, after the police had arrived and taken them down the station. All of them had come back to Steve’s house directly afterward, and Bucky didn’t even think about the consequences of that until a few days later.

Winifred and the kids had no clothes, no books, no toys, no pajamas, no school supplies, and no winter clothing except for what they’d been wearing when they left. Winifred had some money left in her bank account, but between rent and groceries there was little left to spare for anything else.

“The Christmas clothing drive downtown is still going,” Winifred said one evening. “I’ll go down there tomorrow.”

“Mom…” Bucky said, frowning from where he sat on the other couch.

“I know,” Winifred said calmly. “It isn’t ideal, and I wouldn’t go if I could avoid it, but the kids have to go back to school in a week and they’re going to need more than one outfit each.”

Bucky wanted to argue, but he couldn’t think of a better option. Steve barely had enough money for himself and Bucky, let alone enough to buy clothes for all of Bucky’s siblings.

Bucky was downstairs that evening when he heard weird noises coming from upstairs. He left Ethan and Rebecca to their monopoly game, telling Grace to sub in for him. Grace immediately knocked over the board in her haste to join the game, and the arguing began again. Bucky ignored them and went up the stairs, frowning.

He stared in surprise at the ladder descending from a panel in the ceiling. He walked over to stand underneath it, staring up into the dark room above.

“There’s an attic in this house?” he called up.

“Yeah,” Steve said from somewhere above him. His voice was muffled. “Well, sort of. It’s more of just a storage space.”

Steve’s face appeared for a moment. “Catch.”

Bucky obediently held out his arms, and a moment later a heavy cardboard box dropped from the roof above.

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered as he staggered and set the box down against the wall. “What is all this?”

“Another one,” Steve said, and Bucky darted back over to grab another box just before it hit the floor.

Steve threw down two more boxes and then crawled down the ladder himself. He pulled on a cord and the ladder rolled itself back up into the ceiling, although it took both of them to push the panel back over it.

“Okay,” Steve said finally. He brushed the dust off his hands and sat down on the floor next to one of the boxes. “Want to start on that box over there?”

Bucky sat down next to him and pulled the tape off of one of the other boxes. He opened it up to find it packed full of neatly folded clothes.

“Steve?” he asked as he pulled a pair of jeans out of the box. “What is all this?”

Steve glanced over. “Oh, that box is all my old clothes from when I was younger. Some of it might be a bit big, but Ethan will probably fit into most of it.”

Sure enough, the box contained several pairs of jeans, lots of shirts and sweaters, and even some coats and mittens.

“Here,” Steve said, pushing a few of the other boxes over to Bucky. He opened those too and found more folded clothes, these ones clearly for a woman. “This is all my mom’s old stuff. Do you think your mom would want any of it? She doesn’t have to take any of it, obviously, but if she wants to look through it and pick some stuff out… it probably won’t all fit but some of it should, at least.”

“Steve…” Bucky said slowly. “Are you sure? You don’t want to keep any of this? It’s your mom’s stuff…”

“Yes,” Steve said firmly. “I was going to just donate it anyway, Bucky. Probably to that clothing drive you guys are going to tomorrow.”

Bucky frowned, but didn’t argue. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve smiled at him a little and then got up, managing to carry two of the boxes down the stairs at once.

 

Nearly all of Steve’s old clothes ended up fitting Ethan, enough that Ethan wouldn’t need new clothes for quite a while. Winifred tried on all of Steve’s mother’s old clothes and found that most of them fit. Winifred cried and hugged Steve for at least two minutes, until Bucky finally pulled her off of him.

They still had to go down to the clothing drive the next day to get things for Grace and Rebecca. Steve dropped them all off on his way to work and promised to be back to pick them up in a few hours.

The clothing drive was in the basement of an old recreation center. Winifred led the way in, her face pale but resolute. Ethan and Rebecca were uncharacteristically quiet, sticking close to each other and staying close to Winifred. Grace was hanging off one of Bucky’s arms, her small hands clutched in one of his.

The doors were sitting open at the bottom of the staircase. There were two middle-aged women sitting in chairs inside of the room, which looked like it had once been a gym but was now being used for the clothing drive. Both of the women looked up from their conversation to smile at Winifred as she walked in, Bucky nearly dragging the other three kids in behind her.

“Hi!” one of the women said enthusiastically. “My name is Janet, and this is Paula. Is this your first time here?”

“Yes,” Winifred said quietly. Bucky glanced around the room. There were long folding tables everywhere, neatly labeled with the gender and age of the clothing piled on top of them. The clothing was all neatly folded, and even looked colour-coordinated.

“Well, take a look around!” Janet said cheerfully. “Are you looking for clothing for all of you, or…”

“Just for these two,” Winifred said, gesturing to Rebecca and Grace. Grace ducked back behind Bucky, never letting go of his hand.

“Wonderful! We recently got a lot of donations for little girls about their age, you’ll have plenty to choose from!” Janet said happily. “You just take whatever you need.”

“It’s free?” Winifred asked, frowning slightly. “I couldn’t…”

“Yes,” Janet said. “You just take as much or as little as you need.”

“Oh,” Winifred said. “Thank you.”

Janet stepped out from behind the table and led Winifred over to one of the tables. Bucky followed, dragging Grace behind him. Grace continued to hide until Janet finally coaxed her out from behind him with a bright pink sweater covered in glittery flowers.

Bucky lifted Grace up onto one of the tables so that she could look through the clothes herself. He didn’t miss Paula walking up to Winifred and gently taking her arm, pulling her over to the woman’s clothing.

“It’s okay to take some for yourself,” Paula said quietly. Winifred stared at her for a moment, but she cautiously reached over and started looking through the woman’s clothing.

Twenty minutes later, they walked out with plastic bags full of clothes. Grace was already wearing her new pink sweater, and she kept making Bucky look at how it glittered in the light.

They still had lots of time to kill before Steve came to pick them up again, and so Bucky led the way to a little café near the recreation center. It was cheap enough that Bucky could afford lunch for all of them, and the kids chattered happily about their new clothes over their bowls of mac and cheese.

“What about the car?” Bucky asked suddenly. Winifred had been dabbing mac and cheese off of Ethan’s shirt, but she looked up at Bucky with surprise.

“My car is in my name,” she said quietly. “The lawyer I’ve been talking to is going to arrange for it to be picked up and brought to me.”

“What about the rest of it?” Bucky asked. “That house is full of stuff. Nice furniture, too. And his car, that’s gotta be worth a lot.”

“No,” Winifred said firmly. “That’s all his, and I don’t want any of it.”

Bucky frowned. “But you could probably negotiate a lot of in the divorce settlement. You wouldn’t even have to keep it, just sell it for the cash.”

Winifred shook her head. “No. I don’t want any of it. It’s all his, and I don’t want it. Maybe it’s irrational, I don’t know, but I just don’t want it. I don’t want the cash, I don’t want his money, I don’t want any of it. I’ll get new furniture, I’ll get our own furniture that’s just ours. Not his. As far as I’m concerned, the only good thing I ever got from him was the four of you.”

Bucky didn’t argue. “Okay. If that’s what you want, okay.”

He couldn’t read the look that Winifred gave him, but Grace chose that moment to knock her water over with her elbow and Bucky had to scramble to clean it up before it dripped off the table and onto his jeans.

 

They had no extra money to go see a movie or anything like that after they’d eaten, and so Bucky dragged the kids over to the park across the street and set them to work building a snowman. Bucky ended up having to roll the snowballs into the actual snowman after they became too heavy. Winifred took Grace around the park collecting old leaves and twigs to decorate the snowman with, while Ethan and Rebecca helped Bucky build the snowman’s body.

By the time Steve pulled up in his car a few hours later, they had an entire little snowman family built. Grace even made Steve get out of the car to show him the little ‘Steve’ snowman that she’d made.

Once they had all the clothes loaded into the trunk, all of them piled back into the car for the trip home. Grace curled up against Bucky in the backseat as Steve turned the heater on, and Ethan and Rebecca were back to their usual chatter.

Bucky felt like for the first time in a long time, he could breathe properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me ages to update this and I AM SO SORRY but it's the end of the term and I had a bunch of stuff to do. I only have one thing left though, and then I am FREE


	28. Chapter 28

Winifred got the keys to the new house that weekend, and her lawyer dropped her car off the next morning. Bucky tagged along on the way there, helping to stuff the trunk of the car full of the plastic bags of clothing and a few boxes of cereal they’d taken from Steve’s kitchen.

Rebecca, Grace, and Ethan were remarkably excited about the new place. They all leapt out of the car the moment they pulled into the driveway, excitedly chasing each other around the lawn.

Bucky got out of the car a little more slowly. He grabbed a few bags out of the trunk as Winifred went to unlock the front door, glancing at the house as he did so.

It was much smaller than their old house had been. This one was a two-storey rectangle, with light blue vinyl siding and an old brown fence surrounding the yard. The kids’ school was right around the corner, though, and the trees out front had clearly been carefully maintained.

Bucky followed his family into the house. The kids ran from room to room, shrieking excitedly. They didn’t seem perturbed by the change in the size of the house or the lack of furniture.

The kitchen was outdated and the washrooms looked like they hadn’t been renovated since the 60’s, but it was clean and bright. Winifred immediately went to work scrubbing down the sinks anyway, and Ethan grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

“This is me and Bucky’s room!” Ethan shouted, pulling Bucky into one of the small bedrooms.

“This is me and Grace’s!” Rebecca shouted from another bedroom across the hall.

“I’m not gonna be living here, remember?” Bucky said patiently to Ethan.

“I know,” Ethan said cheerfully. “But you’ll come visit, and mom said that I can get bunk beds in here so that when you come to visit you’ll have a place to sleep.”

Bucky ruffled his hair and went downstairs to grab some more bags out of the car.

 

Bucky went into the bank to talk to his potential boss when January rolled around. There was no way he would be able to work the job he’d originally been promised, at least not right away. Bucky still couldn’t look at a computer screen for more than a few hours without getting a headache, and sometimes he’d need to go sleep in the middle of the day when his headache got to be too strong.

To Bucky’s surprise, his boss was remarkably understanding of Bucky’s issues. He offered Bucky a job that paid a little less, but allowed for much more job flexibility. It even would let Bucky work from home most days, meaning he could lie around on the couch in his sweatpants instead of standing in a bright and loud office all day.

His boss sent him home with several booklets and information on the programs and policies that he’d need to learn before he could start work. Bucky immediately started on them when he got home, eager to start actually contributing to their little household.

The next few weeks passed by lazily. Bucky managed to spend a few hours each day learning the programs, and he always tried to do it while Steve was at work so that they could spend time together when Steve got home.

Bucky was nearly asleep one evening, sprawled out on their bed under the piles of blankets. Steve had promised to come upstairs in a few minutes, but it had been half an hour and Bucky was tired.

He finally heard Steve’s footsteps. Bucky rolled over and blinked slowly at him.

Steve was hesitating in the doorway, looking down at his hands.

“I was…” he said slowly. Bucky waited.

Steve took a deep breath and continued. “I was thinking of going to my mom’s grave tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Bucky said carefully. Steve had never mentioned going to see his mother’s grave before. “Do, uh, do you want me to come with you?”

“If you want,” Steve said quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to. But if you wanted to – “

“Steve,” Bucky said tiredly. “Of course I will.”

Steve visibly relaxed, and Bucky finally managed to convince him to come to bed.

 

They went the next morning. Steve didn’t say anything on the car ride over, and Bucky’s lame attempts at conversation fell flat.

They pulled into the cemetery parking lot. There were only a few other cars there, and the two of them got out in silence.

Bucky let Steve lead the way. Steve had his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold. Bucky trailed behind him, unsure of how to act. His first instinct was to comfort Steve somehow, but his body language was clearly indicating that he didn’t want to be touched.

The cemetery stretched out over the top of a long hill, eventually sloping down to the ocean below. Only a few trees had managed to survive in the harsh winter winds that blew off the water, but the cemetery had a strange beauty on its own.

Steve finally stopped in front of a small headstone. Bucky walked up beside him, letting his sleeve brush up against Steve’s gently.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Steve carefully stepped forward and started brushing the snow off of the headstone. He stepped back again when he was finished, letting his arm fall against Bucky’s again.

“I should bring flowers,” Steve said finally. “When it’s warmer, I mean.”

“I know you’re allowed to plant them here,” Bucky said. “That might be nice.”

“Yeah,” Steve said distantly. Bucky looked out over the ocean as Steve stared into the distance.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Steve said finally. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you’re supposed to do,” Bucky said. “Pretty sure there isn’t a protocol or anything that you have to follow.”

Steve was still frowning, so Bucky tried again.

“Maybe you could just… talk?” Bucky said hesitantly. “About her?”

Steve didn’t respond, but he didn’t frown again either.

“You could… okay, what about this? What did the two of you do for your sixteenth birthday, or something like that?”

Steve seemed to brighten a little. He started talking, slowly at first but eventually the words came more quickly.

They had to leave after an hour. The winds had picked up and both of them were shivering, and Steve turned the heat on full blast when they got back to the car. Steve seemed happier, though. Lighter.

 

Bucky was sprawled on the couch one evening, flipping through channels on the tv. Steve was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his way through a bag of Cheetos and looking at something on his laptop.

“What if I became a doctor?” Steve said suddenly.

“You’d look hot in the outfit,” Bucky said.

Steve sighed. “I’m serious, Bucky.”

Bucky muted the tv and sat up, turning to look at Steve. “Wait, really?”

Steve shrugged, still staring at his computer. “I mean… my undergrad grades ended up being pretty good, and I’ve found a few med schools that I meet the requirements for…”

“You really are serious about this,” Bucky said in amazement. “You didn’t say anything about this before.”

“I know,” Steve said, pulling another Cheeto out of the bag. “But when you were in the hospital for so long, and I was just stuck there… I dunno, I just felt so useless. I wanted to do more. And Natasha and I spent so much time researching and trying to find more information… I don’t know, it was just something I was thinking about.”

“No, no, you should do it!” Bucky said eagerly. He crawled over the pillows and jumped over the back of the couch, skidding around the table to look at Steve’s computer screen with him. “You’d be so good at it, Steve. Everybody would love you.”

“You think?” Steve said doubtfully.

“Yes,” Bucky said firmly. He reached his arms over Steve’s shoulders so that he could scroll down the page. “Remember how good you were with me, even when I was being annoying as hell?”

“You weren’t annoying,” Steve said automatically. “Look, I could probably apply to this scholarship. That would save us a lot of the cost.”

“Do it,” Bucky said. “Come on, start applying now.”

Steve still looked hesitant. “I… it’ll be a lot of work, Bucky. We don’t really have the money to spare – “

“Steve,” Bucky said. “I don’t care how many shifts I have to work at the goddamn bank, I’ll do it if it means you get to do this. Don’t worry about the money thing. We’ll be fine.”

Steve smiled a little. “Well, they do have a good program at the local university here that partners with the hospital. We could just stay in this house and I could drive into town every day. We’d save money that way.”

“I wonder if Dr. Jacobson would write you a recommendation letter,” Bucky said. “I bet he would. Let’s call him, come on. This is great, Steve.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” Bucky said. “Absolutely.”  

 

With Bucky’s help, it didn’t take Steve long to get all the paperwork filled out and sent in. Apparently he’d just made it before the deadline. Within a few days, his status on the application website changed to “In Review.” After that, there was nothing they could do but wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As you can probably tell, this story is starting to wrap itself up. There's only a little ways left to go now, which honestly I'm kind of sad about


	29. Chapter 29

It started over something innocuous.

Bucky was standing in the kitchen making dinner, and Steve was sitting with his laptop on the couch. Steve was lazily flipping through websites as Bucky stirred the pasta.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky asked as he heard Steve start to laugh.

“I’m reading the list of the weirdest baby names of the year.”

Bucky stuck his head around the corner. “Uh, why?”

Steve shrugged from where he was sprawled on the pillows. “Someone posted it on facebook.”

Bucky shook his head and went back to the pasta. “Okay, what’s the weirdest?”

“I’m still reading it,” Steve said. “But so far? Denim.”

“Like jeans? That kind of denim?”

“Yep. Oh wait. Moody.”

“Someone named their kid Moody?”

“It says that at least three parents named their kids Moody. Oh my god, somebody named their kid Blip.”

Bucky laughed. “All right, all right, that’s pretty bad.”

“Cheese is on this list! Right now, there are at least three babies named Cheese.”

Steve was still reading the list and calling out the ridiculous names by the time Bucky carried out the bowls of pasta. He sat down on the couch next to him, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Here’s a kid named Chaos,” Steve said. “Imagine being named Chaos.”

“I’d rather be called Chaos than Cheese,” Bucky said through a mouthful of pasta.

Steve laughed and closed his laptop. “Okay, so what do you want to name our first kid?”

Bucky nearly choked on his pasta. “You want kids?”

“Uh,” Steve said slowly. “Eventually, yeah. Not right now, obviously.”

“Oh,” Bucky said.

“What, you don’t?” Steve asked as he took a bite of his food.

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” Bucky said. He grabbed the remote and turned the tv on, picking a random channel and turning up the volume up.

 

Steve had to leave an hour later for work. Bucky waited until his car had pulled out of the driveway before he grabbed his coat and shoes and ran out the door.

He jogged all the way to his mother’s house. By the time he got there, he was out of breath and sweaty. He knocked frantically on the door, hoping that someone would be home.

His mother opened the door a moment later.

“Bucky?” she said, frowning at his disheveled state.

“Can I come in?” he asked breathlessly.

“Of course,” Winifred said, stepping back and holding the door open wider. Bucky followed her inside.

Grace ran at him while shrieking loudly. Ethan and Rebecca right behind her, and soon Bucky was staggering under the weight of three children.

“Okay, okay,” Winifred said, gently peeling her children off of Bucky. “Let’s give him a moment, all right? Ethan, Rebecca, you two go finish that project for science class tomorrow and _then_ you can come spend time with Bucky. Grace, I want your toys back in the toy bin and your blankets picked up off the floor.”

All three of them groaned, but ran off to do their respective chores. Bucky followed Winifred into the kitchen, dropping heavily into one of the cheap kitchen chairs.

“Have you had dinner?” Winifred asked, already bustling around the kitchen. “I could make you something.”

“No, I already ate,” Bucky said distantly.

“Do you want a hot chocolate or a tea or something then?”

“Sure,” Bucky said. A few minutes later, Winifred set a steaming cup of hot chocolate down in front of him.

“Are you all right?” Winifred said softly as she sat down across from him. Bucky stared at her.

“Steve wants kids,” he said.

Winifred raised an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“No,” Bucky said impatiently. He wrapped his hands around the hot chocolate. “Later, way later. But…”

“But you don’t?”

“I don’t,” Bucky said desperately.

Winifred didn’t look as concerned as Bucky had expected her to be. “Bucky, that’s okay. You’re still incredibly young. You still have plenty of time to think about it, and you never know! You might change your mind – “

“I’m not going to change my mind!” Bucky shouted. Winifred sat back in her chair, and Bucky winced and lowered his voice. “I’m not.”

“That’s okay too,” Winifred said calmly. “Steve is reasonable, he’ll understand – “

“He won’t,” Bucky said. “He’s super into the idea of becoming a foster parent one day or some shit like that. He even looked up the qualifications to be one the other day.”

“Well, that’s a nice idea,” Winifred said.

“No, it’s not!” Bucky said frantically. “Because I don’t want kids, ever, and he does! How’s that going to work, Mom? It’s either going to be me or kids someday, and I don’t want to make him make a choice like that!”

“Bucky, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

“I’m not!” Bucky said desperately. He propped his arms up on the table and buried his head in his hands. “I can’t be a parent, Mom.”

Winifred sighed. “Why not? You’d make a great parent.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Bucky mumbled, well aware of how obstinate he was being.

“Bucky, what are you talking about? You’re great with the kids. Grace talks about you non-stop.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t my kids,” Bucky said.

“No, but – “

“Mom,” Bucky said. “I’m too much like Dad to ever be a parent. I would never do that to someone else – “

“Bucky,” Winifred said sharply. “You’re nothing like him. Don’t ever think that – “

“I am though!” Bucky protested. “Everyone always used to say how similar the two of us were – “

“Because they didn’t know him! They knew the person he was to everyone else, not the person he was to us!”

“I’m angry all the time, Mom, and it’s just been worse since I got my head cracked open.”

“You can work on that,” Winifred said. She was still infuriatingly calm. “That doesn’t mean that you’d make a bad parent.”

“I know that – “

“Bucky,” Winifred interrupted. “Would you ever, _ever_ hit Grace? Or Rebecca? Or Ethan?”

“Of course not,” Bucky said immediately. It made him feel sick to even think about that.

“Well then?”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“Because they aren’t my kids!”

Winifred raised her eyebrows again. “No, but you’re their brother and you sure as hell have been a better role model to them than their own father ever was.”

Bucky sighed and finally raised his head from his hands. “Mom…”

She still did not look as concerned as Bucky had anticipated. “This won’t even be a problem for at least another ten years. You’ve got a hell of a lot of time to do some thinking between now and then.”

“Ugh,” Bucky muttered, but he could feel himself calming down.

Grace chose that moment to run back into the kitchen and launch herself at his chair.

“I’m done cleaning!” she said happily. “Mom, can Bucky come see my new bike now?”

“Yes,” Winifred said with a small smile on her face. Bucky sighed again and let Grace pull him through the house and into the garage, where she proudly showed him the new bike a neighbour had given her.

Three hours had passed by the time Bucky left. He’d spent the whole time being passed around by his siblings, and shown their various new toys or science projects. Winifred would occasionally wander in and give him a pointed look, which probably had something to do with the way his siblings were literally hanging off his shoulders.

 

Bucky was lying face down on the couch when Steve got home from work.

“Uh, hi?” Steve said as he shut the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want kids,” Bucky said into the couch.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Okay? That’s fine?”

Bucky lifted his head from the couch. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, kicking his shoes off and coming to sit on the other couch. “I mean, it’s something I want eventually but we can talk about it. That’s a long way off.”

Bucky sighed and let his face drop back into the pillows. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “This isn’t exactly something we have to decide right now. I’m more concerned about what we’re going to eat for dinner tomorrow.”

“Probably pasta.”

“Yep,” Steve said with a laugh. “Probably. Why are you panicking about the kids thing?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, his voice muffled by the couch. “Apparently it’s a sensitive topic.”

“Uh,” Steve said. “Okay?

Bucky waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Steve said again. By this point, he didn’t get too shaken up by any of Bucky’s many crises. “Wanna help me pick the hotel for Hawaii?”

“Yes,” Bucky said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine them as foster parents though


	30. Chapter 30

“Who designed this?” Bucky muttered as he tried to get more comfortable in his seat.

“Whoever they are, they must have been pretty short,” Steve said.

“Fucking hell,” Bucky said. He tried to stretch his legs out under the seat in front of him.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to do your seatbelt up,” a flight attendant said to Steve, with a patronizing smile.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve said. He snapped the buckle closed and shifted in his seat, clearly trying to get more comfortable.

The woman sitting on the aisle seat beside them had already pulled a blanket over herself and set a pillow behind her head. She’d slipped an eye-mask on and put some earplugs in. Bucky was pretty sure she was already asleep, and the flight hadn’t even taken off yet.

Both Steve and Bucky were squished into their seats, which seemed like they had been made for children. For very small children. Babies, maybe. They had their knees pressed into the seat in front of them, simply because there was absolutely no room.

“At least there’s movies,” Bucky said. He poked at the touchscreen in the back of the seat in front of him.

“They’ve got that new political documentary I wanted to watch,” Steve said happily.

“Ugh,” Bucky said. “You’re wasting your free inflight movies on a political documentary?”

“Yes,” Steve said cheerfully. “What are you going to watch?”

“Something more exciting than a documentary,” Bucky said as he poked at his screen again. “Steve?”

“What?”

“My screen isn’t working.”

Steve leaned over and tried poking at Bucky’s screen too. All that accomplished was that the screen got greyer and fuzzier.

“Great,” Bucky said. “Of course I get the seat with no movies.”

“You can watch mine,” Steve offered.

The plane started to taxi down the runway, and Steve’s movie disappeared so that the airline could show some advertisements and the safety demonstration.

The two of them watched out the window as the plane took off. Steve looked like an excited kid, which made Bucky roll his eyes but also smile a little.

They had just settled down to watch Steve’s movie when the lady in front of Steve reclined her chair back.

“Ouch,” Steve muttered as her chair slammed back into his knees. Steve now was quite literally trapped in his chair.

“Fuck,” Bucky said. “Want to switch places with me?”

“No, it’s fine,” Steve said. He was tall enough that he could lean over the seat in front of him and tap the lady on the shoulder. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

The middle-aged woman turned and looked at him, clearly annoyed. “What?”

“Sorry to bother you, but there isn’t really room on this flight for you to recline your chair. If it’s okay with you, could you sit it back upright a little?”

The woman scowled. “I’m well within my right to recline my chair.”

Steve still smiled politely. “I know that, but there aren’t any seats on this flight for us to move to, and the metal part of your chair is digging into my knees. If you could just – “

“No,” the woman said. “I need my rest, and I want to recline my chair.”

Steve took a deep breath.

“Well, he needs his rest too, but he can’t get that because you’re causing him physical pain,” Bucky said.

The woman scowled. “You know what? You two should respect your elders.”

“Respect our elders?” Steve and Bucky said at the same time. Steve opened his mouth to say something else, but the woman haughtily put her over-priced headphones on and ignored them.

“Nice,” Bucky muttered. “That’s really nice. Come on, Steve, switch places with me. I’m a little shorter than you, I’ll fit better.”

“I literally can’t get out of this chair,” Steve said through gritted teeth. Sure enough, the woman’s chair was pressed so far back onto Steve’s knees that he could not move.

They finally got the movie going, each of them taking one earbud so they could both watch. Bucky twisted so that Steve could lean against his shoulder, at least.

Bucky had almost fallen asleep when the woman in front of them whirled around and leaned over the seat.

“Stop that,” she hissed. Bucky blinked at her, and Steve stared innocently.

“Stop what?”

“Stop digging your knees into my seat! I was asleep, young man!”

Steve shrugged. “I was just trying to stretch a little. I’m in a lot of pain.”

Bucky snorted, and the woman glared at him. She sat back down in her seat, and Steve stared calmly at the movie.

Steve waited another few minutes, and then Bucky watched as he pressed his trapped knees deeper into the seat. The woman angrily turned to look at them, but both Steve and Bucky stared at the documentary with intense focus.

Finally, after two hours of this repeating pattern, the woman set her chair upright. Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The flight was long and pretty boring, but they ended up falling asleep propped up on each other’s shoulders for most of it. The woman shot them one last glare as they filed off the plane, but Steve just smiled at her.

“It’s so humid,” Bucky said as they walked through the airport to baggage claim.

“It’s great,” Steve said happily. “I feel great.”

Bucky picked up their luggage while Steve went to get the rental car. Bucky ended up carrying two duffel bags out into the soft rain while he waited, sweltering in his jeans and sweater.

Steve finally pulled up in a car that was much too small for them, but they somehow managed to shove their bags into the trunk.

“Okay,” Steve said as they pulled out of the airport. “Where do we go?”

“Uh,” Bucky said. He grabbed a map out of the glove compartment. “Go down this road and make a left.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked doubtfully.

“No.”

Steve sighed. “We should have googled the directions before we left.”

“Probably.  But now you’re stuck with me,” Bucky said. “I’m great at reading maps. I’m like a human compass.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You are not.”

“You’ll see,” Bucky said, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll be there in no time.”

 

Three hours later, they finally made it to the hotel.

“I can’t believe how many sugar cane fields we ended up in,” Steve said as he followed Bucky down the hall. “This island looks so small on the map. How are there so many fields.”

“I’m surprised we didn’t get murdered,” Bucky said mildly. “I was expecting some real Children of the Corn type shit.”

“Children of the sugar cane, maybe,” Steve muttered. “You are never reading the map again.”

“Hey, I found our room, didn’t I?” Bucky said proudly as he stopped in front of their hotel room door.

“Yeah, thanks, human compass,” Steve said as he put the key card in the door.

The room was dark as they walked in. Bucky flicked the lights on, dropping his duffel bag on the floor.

“Steve, holy shit,” he said. “Look at this room!”

“It is pretty nice,” Steve agreed as he shut the door behind him.

Bucky bounded over to look out the window. “There’s a balcony! With actual chairs! I think I can see the ocean.”

Steve laughed. “It’s dark, Bucky.”

“Yeah, but I think I can still see it. Look, there’s a wave.”

“We can see the ocean from our house back home!”

“So?” Bucky said happily. “This water will probably be a hell of a lot warmer. And also there’s palm trees here.”

“That’s true,” Steve said. He dropped his bag on the floor and threw himself on the bed. “Okay, the bed is super comfortable.”

“Let me see,” Bucky said. He climbed onto it, faceplanting in the pillows. “Yep. Comfy.”

“Hmm,” Steve said.

They both lay there for a moment.

“I feel like we should have sex or something,” Steve said.

“Probably, yeah,” Bucky said. “Christen the room and whatnot.”

“Okay,” Steve said tiredly.

Both of them lay there, not moving. Bucky’s eyes were closed.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Steve said into the pillow.

Bucky was already asleep.

 

Bucky woke up the next morning to find Steve eagerly shaking him awake.

“Bucky!” Steve hissed. “Are you awake?”

“No,” Bucky mumbled.

“Oh. Are you gonna wake up soon?”

“No,” Bucky said firmly.

“Fine then,” Steve said. “You’ll miss out on the hotel breakfast.”

“Fine,” Bucky said, his face mushed into his pillow. “Sleep is more important.”

Steve still whistled cheerfully as he got dressed and headed out the door. Bucky groaned and threw a pillow after him.

 

When Bucky woke up again, it was to the smell of coffee under his nose.

“Ah,” Bucky said, lifting his head from the pillow. “Is that coffee?”

“Yep,” Steve said cheerfully from where he was sitting at the desk against the wall. “Delicious, hot, fresh coffee.”

“Gimme,” Bucky moaned, crawling desperately over the bed.

“Nope,” Steve said loftily. “This wonderful coffee is only for those who get out of bed and come to the hotel breakfast.”

“Nooo,” Bucky moaned, collapsing back onto the blankets.

Steve lasted all of five seconds before he laughed. “I’m kidding. I brought you some. And a muffin, and a fruit bowl. It’s on your night stand.”

Bucky eagerly sat up and dove for the nighstand. He drank half of the coffee in one go and then dug into the muffin.

“Are you finished?” Steve said when Bucky finally ate the last pieces of cantaloupe from the fruit bowl.

“Yes,” Bucky said, through a mouthful of fruit. “I’m awake. I’m alive.’’

“Come look at the view,” Steve said eagerly.

Bucky rolled off the bed and wandered over to join him on the balcony.

“See,” Bucky said. “Told you we could see the ocean.”

Sure enough, their hotel sat right on the beach. The palm trees waved slowly in the morning breeze, and the brightness of the flowers around them almost hurt Bucky’s eyes.

“Wish my mom could have seen this,” Steve said, leaning on the railing.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “But you’re here now, and you’re just gonna have to see it all for her.”

Steve smiled, albeit a little sadly, and followed Bucky back inside.

They didn’t do much the first day. They tried to go out and lie on the beach like everyone else was doing, but Bucky got bored and tried to bury Steve in the sand instead. Steve chased him into the ocean as revenge, and they spent the next hour paddling around in the waves.

The hotel had a restaurant, but the price of a single dinner was the same as their grocery bill back home for a month. They ended up taking the car back down the road and driving around until they found a reasonably priced restaurant.

“Fish tacos?” Bucky said doubtfully as he scanned the menu. “Steve, I am not sure about fish tacos.”

“We’re in Hawaii, Bucky,” Steve said. “You have to be adventurous.”

Bucky sighed and ordered the fish tacos. They were actually pretty good.

 

After a few days, they got bored of lying around the hotel. Bucky let Steve choose what they did the next day, although Steve insisted on keeping it a secret.

“Okay, keep your eyes closed,” Steve instructed as Bucky got out of the car. “No, come on, walk forward.”

“If you let me trip on something…” Bucky warned as he obediently kept his eyes closed.

“I won’t! Come on, it’s not that much further. Okay, open your eyes.”

They were standing in front of a large boat, with two floors and whales painted on the side.

“Whale watching?” Bucky asked Steve doubtfully.

“Yep,” Steve said happily. “And the brochure promised turtles, snorkeling, and dolphins.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, but followed Steve onto the boat. There were seats both inside and outside of the cabin of the boat, but Bucky preferred to stand near the rail.

“Isn’t this nice?” Steve said as he leaned on the rail next to Bucky. They were out on the open water, cruising between the islands.

“Yeah, it’s all right,” Bucky allowed. “But – HOLY FUCK STEVE LOOK THERE’S A DOLPHIN.”

Sure enough, large dolphins had started to swim alongside the boat. Bucky nearly knocked over a crowd of small children in his haste to get closer to them.

“Okay, all right, the dolphins are pretty cool,” Bucky said, dreamily watching them leap through the water.

“Told you,” Steve said.

 

The boat stopped at another small island for snorkelling. Bucky and Steve swam away from the group a little, pointing out the fish that paddled lazily by them.

It was peaceful, with clear water that allowed them to see all the way to the ocean floor.

Suddenly, Steve kicked Bucky in the side.

“Ow,” Bucky complained, lifting his head above the water and taking his snorkel out of his mouth. “What was that for?”

“Let’s go back to the boat!” Steve said in a falsely cheerful voice.

“Why?” Bucky said suspiciously. “Steve…”

“No reason,” Steve said, trying to push him back towards the boat. “Let’s go!”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him and ducked back below the water, resurfacing a moment later.

“Steve, that’s a shark.”

“Yep,” Steve said. “Yep, it is.”

Bucky was pretty sure they beat an Olympic swimming record on their way back to the boat. Sure enough, the captain of the boat was speaking over the loudspeaker as they climbed the ladder.

“Could we get everyone back on the boat, please? As quickly as possible, please and thank you!”

Everyone made it back unscathed, and the rest of the day was just spend cruising around and looking at turtles.

Bucky finally admitted that Steve’s choice of activities was a success.

 

Bucky wanted to go see the lava fields the next day. He did end up tripping and landing on his knees on sharp lava rocks, but other than that both of them had a good time.

 

“We’re sure this volcano is dormant?” Steve said nervously as they drove up the winding road.

“Uh,” Bucky said. “Sort of, apparently. Kind of.”

“That’s comforting.”

“You wanted to do this!” Bucky protested.

“The internet said it was a ‘must-see’!” Steve said. “Besides, it’s not that long of a drive.”

Sure enough, they made it to the top of the volcano pretty quickly. There was a visitors center and some outlooks where you could look out over both the volcano and the rest of the island.

“This is so cool,” Bucky said as he took pictures of as many things as he could. “Steve, go stand by that sign. Smile!”

It wasn’t until he took the picture that he noticed how pale Steve was.

“Steve? You okay?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Steve said. He wandered off to look at another sign detailing information about the volcano.

Bucky was taking another picture of the view when he noticed how heavily Steve was leaning on the railing of one of the outlooks.

“Steve?” he called. When Steve didn’t reply, Bucky moved closer.

If he’d thought Steve was pale before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now.

“What the fuck, Steve,” Bucky said. “You do not look good.”

“I’m a little dizzy,” Steve said.

“Jesus,” Bucky said. “Go sit on that bench. Come on.”

Bucky dragged him over to the bench, and Steve sat down on it heavily. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” Bucky said sharply.

“I dunno,” Steve said. “Dizzy.”

“Yeah, clearly,” Bucky said. He held his water bottle out to Steve. “Did you drink enough water this morning?”

Steve waved away the water bottle. “Yeah, of course I did.”

“It’s the altitude,” a woman said. Bucky looked up at her from where he was kneeling in front of Steve. “I work at the visitor’s center, we see it a lot up here.”

“What?” Steve mumbled. “No… no, I’m fine.”

The woman gave him a pitiying look. “It’s all right. It happens to a lot of people. Some people are fine, some people end up like him. Even some of us who work at the visitor’s center get it sometimes.”

“He’ll be fine, right?” Bucky asked.

“Yes,” the woman said. “Just take him back down and he’ll be right as rain.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said. “Come on, Steve.”

Steve groaned, but allowed Bucky to pull him off the bench. Bucky slung one of Steve’s arms over shoulders, and Steve stumbled his way to the car.

“Give me the keys, Steve,” Bucky ordered. Steve was leaning against the car, his face against the cool metal.

“You don’t like driving,” Steve mumbled. “I can…”

“Steve, you look like you’re going to throw up any second,” Bucky said. “Give me the damn keys. I can drive down the goddamn mountain.”

Steve clumsily took the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Bucky. Bucky unlocked the car and opened the passenger’s side door, helping Steve sit down.

Bucky got into the car and started the engine, watching Steve warily. “Are you going to throw up in the rental car?”

“No.”

“Because I will pull over if I have to,” Bucky said as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.

“No,” Steve mumbled again. He leaned his head against the window.

Bucky drove back down the volcano as quickly as he could. Steve didn’t say anything the entire drive, but some of the colour started to come back into his face the closer they got to the ocean.

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked as he backed the car into their parking spot.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “A lot. We can go swimming or something if you want?”

“No,” Bucky said. “We’re going back to the room.”

Steve protested, but it also took him twice as long to walk up the stairs and down the hall as it normally would.

“I’m not dizzy anymore,” Steve said as Bucky shut the door behind them. “I’m fine, really.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky said. “Lie down.”

Steve sighed and kicked his shoes off, stretching out on the bed. “Just for a minute.”

“Sure,” Bucky said. He sat down on the bed next to Steve and turned the tv on, although he kept it muted.

“I am kind of tired,” Steve murmured.

“Yep,” Bucky said. “Go to sleep. Right now.”

“You’re so bossy,” Steve grumbled, but his eyes were already closing.

 

Steve slept for the next three hours without moving, while Bucky watched a bad 80s movie with the sound muted.

Steve abruptly sat upright in bed, and Bucky jumped.

“What happened?” Steve said.

“You look way better,” Bucky said, relief washing through him.

Steve stared at him. “What?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“We were on top of the volcano!”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, and then you turned a weird colour and almost passed out.”

Steve stared at him in horror.

“It’s called altitude sickness,” Bucky said. “I googled it. You’re fine now, as long as you don’t go up the volcano again.”

“How did we get back here?”

“I drove us.”

“You drove?” Steve asked sceptically.

“Yes,” Bucky said. “And it was fine. The rental car does not have a scratch on it.”

Steve sighed and flopped back onto the pillows.

 

They tried taking surfing lessons one day, but Steve kept falling off the board the minute he tried to send up. That made Bucky laugh so hard that he in turn, fell off. Their coach got frustrated with them and went to focus on the others in the group. Bucky and Steve ended up just body surfing in the waves with their surfboards safely on shore.

 

There was a fancy mall with some outlet stores that the internet recommended going to see. Neither of them were particularly interested in shopping, so they ended up just getting Starbucks and wandering around. They ended up inside of a souvenir store, where Steve found a ton of cheap souvenirs with his mother’s name written on them. They ended up leaving the mall laden down with souvenirs.

 

“I’m not leaving,” Bucky said dramatically, sprawled out on the hotel bed.

“Well, the hotel is going to kick you out then,” Steve said as he finished shoving his t-shirts into his duffel bag.

“That’s fine,” Bucky said. “I’ll just live on the beach. Become one with nature. Maybe join a clan of sea turtles.”

“I don’t think sea turtles have clans,” Steve said. “They’re solitary.”

“Fine. Dolphins then.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, have fun with your fellow dolphins. I’ll be on a plane.”

“I’ll wave to you from the depths of the ocean.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s duffel bag too. “This is goodbye, then. It’s been nice knowing you.”

“Goodbye,” Bucky said, sprawling out more on the bed.

“You have to make a choice, Bucky,” Steve said, equally dramatic. “It’s me or the dolphins.”

“Steve, no.”

“Yes, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed and rolled off the bed. “I guess I choose you.”

Steve laughed and tossed him a duffel bag. “I’m honoured.”

 

They ended up with the exit row on the way back, which meant there was actual leg room for once. Bucky’s screen worked this time, and they ended up watching action movies all the way back home.

 

When they got off the plane at the airport, they walked out of the baggage claim to find Bucky’s family waiting for them. Grace was holding a sign that said ‘Welcome home Bucky and Steve’, and Rebecca was cheering and waving pom poms around.

“Guys, we were gone for less than two weeks,” Bucky protested as Ethan and Grace fought over who would get to hug him first. Rebecca had already attached herself to Steve.

“They missed you,” Winifred informed him.

“Well, next time we go to Hawaii we’ll take all of you with us,” Bucky said.

“Yes!” Rebecca cheered. “Did you see sharks? I just did a project on great white sharks.”

“Actually, we did,” Steve told her. Rebecca shrieked with excitement, and hung onto Steve’s arm all the way to the car.

 

“I miss the palm trees,” Steve said sadly as he dumped his duffel bag on the floor.

“Yeah, but I missed this couch,” Bucky said, throwing himself over the back of the couch.

“It is pretty comfy,” Steve agreed, coming to lie next to him.

“This place is pretty great,” Bucky murmured, already half-asleep.

“Yep,” Steve said. He grabbed one of the blankets next to them and threw it over both himself and Bucky.

Both of them were asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it guys! That's all! For now. I'm still thinking of turning this into a series, and MAYBE I'll upload a little christmas present for you guys. 
> 
> A few things:  
> -Apparently the fish tacos are actually good. I've never had them because of the whole gluten thing, but my friends did and said they were great.  
> -People genuinely do get altitude sickness on the volcano. It's very strange.  
> -Fuck snorkeling. I hate snorkeling.  
> -Also, fuck reclining seats. You might hit the knees of the girl sitting behind you and rip open her knee wound that she's been desperately trying to heal for the last week.  
> -I WAS SO CLOSE TO 70 000 OH MAN THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUCH AN ACHIEVEMENT. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so, SO much for your comments and kudos and messages. You all have been nothing but kind to me and I can't even express how much I appreciate it. I read every comment and each one nearly kills me. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This was a strange story, and I only started writing it because I had a nightmare about drowning and then tried to keep myself awake by writing something down. I love all of you so much, and I am very emotional over it UGH. 
> 
> I just started writing something new, and you can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2799482/chapters/6284033) (I literally just posted it.) I'm also on tumblr at [cameronwolfe.tumblr.com](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com). I'm there most of the time. It's kind of embarrassing how often I'm there. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much.


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